Poem as a healing therapy.

BEGGARS SONGS

Along the beclouded roads

Stood a rattling soul, clothed with rags

Broken arms

Cracked smiles

Their bullied scares are marks of unruly life journey,

A journey of folds for the equals, to land-up unequal

Rain barks at us

Sun yowls a thigh-slapper at our tender skin

As we fought the thalamencephalon thoughts

Scorching our bald heads

Brother Job is always at the door to welcome us to his woe-junket

Help us!

Help us! Echoes

As their rugged hands tremble in mysteriach

And Oregon jargon

We ate tears for food

Tumesce leg for shoe

We prayed and hope just for the day

But men forgets here and always

Alas often and on, that angels are not always on white