Beggars on wheel
Hope seems lost
Is death the key
That’s the question that comes forth
Beggars on wheel
So the sign board reads
But wheels I see not, only archaic wooden sticks
And them drenched in poverty’s court
With our political physicians
Roaming around with their pot bellies
Claiming to heal the land
But addeth to the tally on wheels
Beggars on wheel
Chocked by our economy
Sophocated by deadly exhaust that pollute not only their faces but also their minds from within
And to them, no escape from this
Beggars on wheel
With their kids running to us for arms
And a knock sent with the convoy of bitterness, do we send for them to feel
Leaving them with tears and pain rolling down their open arms
Yet we claim to love
Love are the words we say
But bitterness do they believe we live for
For we’ve painted their world with pain
Beggars on wheel
Is death the key to setting them free?
©HARRISON MICHEAL
