ON A ROAD

It was a winter night so cold, Fog and mist made it difficult to behold. Hardly there was anyone to talk, At a distance I saw a policeman on walk. With a little swagger, Stomach full of beer, He was blinded by his vigor I swear. At a corner there lay a beggar, Shivering and throbbing with piercing air, Cop came near, who was Demented by the churning beer. For the sake of his ostentatious power, He got hold of the beggar’s collar. He gave him mighty blows, From chin, chest, stomach to toe. Suddenly from his starved body, Blood began to flow. His sniveling cry Ventilated my pavid mind. Help! Help! I cried, But my eyes were dry. Either it was very cold, Or my desires were not that bold. With a deep sigh and chest held tight, His departed soul took a long flight. I was still standing there, Cursing beggar’s fate. I gathered my courage, But it was too late. Next morning, Local newspapers were flooded With headings of various types; “One more gave up to cold” “Freezing cold, one more dead” “What is government doing?” But the last one Shook me within, What was I doing? In that cold winter night.