On the corner of the busy street
Hiding the sorrows behind a rigid face
A trembling hand begs
Begs for attention to earn a single cent
Belittled by the society
They bag their pride
Keeping it aside,
To carry on with dear life
Not much, but enough for a humble meal
A glorious day
Not for us, but for the trembling hand.
The sun rises, and it sets
Minutes seem to have no hurry.
The struggle to live,
Not a moment to relax
Not a second to enjoy
Should strive every minute
To get along with precious life.
A future of darkness
The present of diminished light.
Hopeless or nor
Not a soul to care.
The trembling hand,
Fed up with life
Spends such a dull life,
Until god invites...
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