He spends his work squabbling, haggling over a rupee
Foul mouths, abuses and all that drains his energy
You couldn’t tell if he is drunk just pretending to be sober
Battling through a rotten life, his ordeal never really over!
But when night comes and the half ball silver glows
Leaving behind the muck, he can stop being morose
He neither reflects on his misery nor feels the need to weep
On a six by six potholed floor, quickly he falls asleep!
Are you not curious to know if dreams visit him then?
With sweet angels with words of love or beautiful women
No curses no shouting men, only friends surrounding him
Hugging him, cheering him, he is a winner in his dream!
Or the same evils haunt him, the ones that storm his day
Mock him, spit on his face, kick him out of their way
He struggles to find his way out, shouting curses in his sleep
There’s no light or end of the tunnel, he doesn’t know to weep!