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A glance inside dark shadows

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Pitifully flung coins
clang against pavements
lined with folks dressed only in loins.
Their matted hair, grimy skins,
dirt-caked nails and toothy grins
sit all night and all day,
with arms outstretched and faces pale
but we walk past them as though
they're lifeless statues of stone or clay;
ignoring their hungry calls, cries and brays.

Unwelcome everywhere,
where they'll sleep
this world doesn't care.
With black bodies and uncut manes,
they sit in clumps filling lanes;
under mango trees and outside fanes
sharing stale food and watching
their children wane.

They come tapping our doors and windows
regardless of the blaring sun or lashing rains
just to collect what we throw away
or have a mere penny or two made.

Crows and dogs are their friends.
With them, none from this society blends.
They wander starving with clothes torn and rent
yet not a soul around has a hand to lend!

What are we doing? What are we trying to prove?
Why can't we understand they're humans too?
We shoo them away as if we're much better,
our minds are tied tight by a narrow-minded tether!

Their matted hair, grimy skins,
dirt-caked nails and toothy grins
are all they call their possessions,
rarely do we strive to show them compassion.
They come tapping our doors and windows,
they deserve more than to live
cursed inside dark shadows.

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