A man in clothes tattered,
Walks past by.
But to no one he mattered;
His mouth dry.
He fights to survive;
To live for tomorrow.
Of food he's deprived,
Stricken with great sorrow.
The streets are rough.
He begs everyday,
But they just shove,
And push him away.
He begs once again,
Yet to no one he mattered.
He cries in disdain,
That man in clothes tattered.
