THE SICK LAND

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Wait, look and see,

A bevy of prostitutes,

Portraying obnoxious postures,

With their tools of trade.


An army of destitutes,

Receiving some severe battering,

Under the baking sun.


A horde of skillful men,

Rendered unfit and useless,

By time and circumstances.


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Hungry orphans and widows,

Trudging the empty streets,

Ekeing out a skeletal living,

Out of dustbins and waste baskets.


I cannot trust their tolerance,

Waiting they are to take revenge,

On a so called sacred society,

That has dashed their hopes.


Wait, look and see,

See fresh coffins passing by,

Tell me I mean, show me,

A healthier land of fresher air,

Let me there pinch a tent!!!

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THE SICK LAND | Ecency