Disowned
Disowned


There was an old beggar I used to see
Hands outstretched, continuing his plea
Among the garbage, sitting on the road
For he had no other abode.
The five-year-old me used to say
How does that man get to sit there every day
When I am not even allowed to go outside alone
Well, I was too young to have known.
As I grew older, it was told to me
Not to go near him, but I didn’t quite agree
So, one day I approached him, a rupee in hand
What he did after that, I will never understand.
Without
touching the money I had brought
He motioned me to sit beside him
Then he said, with his face very grim
“You know, a boy just like you, I had got”.
“Where is he now?”, I wanted to know
“Oh, he is 22 now, with a lot of money to show
He is living in America, very happily, no doubt
Ever since he has thrown his poor father out.”
I couldn’t believe my ears at all
To be thrown out by the one, whom you helped crawl
To be told by your son, “I disown you”
Nobody can bear, what this beggar was going through.