Poverty is a disease. When you read this poem, kindly extend a hand of kindness to those on the street begging for alms, no matter how dirty or stinky they might be. Let’s show love to those who need it in whichever small way we can.
No pain no gainAn anthem for the braveWhose humble abode is the humble CircleWhere they struggle to make ends meet Proud in the armor of tattered shirtsRunning helter skelterFrom market squares to stationsWith the support of unclothed legsPrivileged under heavy sack loadsWith tiny rivulets quenching their thirstsPickpocketing for bread of no butterAnd receiving alms as… Read More »