Everyday on the side lane of a busy road
I wait for people, strangers to me
to act as good Samaritans, to stop by
where I am seated with no one to support.
Across the road is a well maintained shrine
with a carved metal box for devotees to gift
money to the deity for prayers to be answered
to support the shrine that has men to support.
Buses come by this lane with seated people
and as it negotiates the curve where am seated
they throw coins in the direction of the metal box
to support the deity who has men to support.
People coming my way pause in their steps
they fumble deep in their pockets for coins
that have long-lost both, value and shine
throwing them at me, who has no one, to support.
I can see fruits and milk flowing by the gallons
given as holy offerings to the…
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