It Rains

When in the rain, droplets drain, A sweet little heart feels the pain. No other way to sustain, He’s left with a muddy stain. Might be prosperous soul, Poor had played a different role. Being a scavenger, he stole, Blanket made from plastic mould. Again he’s left in fear, Still water washes the plastic shelter. Looks pathetic and sounds vulgar, When in day light he’s left naked without fur. History repeats every monsoon, New victims arise again and again. Who cares about their loss or gain? If it doesn’t rain! © http://pksankhwar.blogspot.com/