The view from the buai seller
26 September 2019
I came to city with dream of a better life,
With jobs and mega opportunities,
But the dream turned to nightmare,
As my soles touched the city’s paved streets.
I face the daily realities of city life,
That is grimmer than I ever dreamed.
My lot as a vagrant is dismal,
And I have to choose between life and death.
I choose life and choose to survive,
And do what is in my power to live.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
So I scraped a few coins and bought buai,
As my only lifeline to survive in city,
A path to economic equality,
Rather live on sweat of toil than beg.
I brave the sun's noonday heat,
And peddle my goods near offices for buyers,
With my sun baked face oblivious to danger,
Hoping to receive a few bucks from my sale.
Then I'm cornered by a police van,
Chased like a common criminal,
Beaten to the ground like a dead dog,
Robbed of all I treasured and carried.
Left broken, battered and wounded,
More desolated and an inconsolable soul;
By the custodians of the nation’s laws,
That prey off the hapless in society.
If I'm chased and hunted a like bird,
If my only crime is selling buai on the street,
What about the ‘fat cats’ who siphon millions?
Where is justice for the vulnerable in society?
Thanks DAVIDSON for critically expressing the real life situation that our nation is facing.
Posted by: Porap Gai | 03 October 2019 at 09:45 AM
Preface my terse with applause for Simon's View,
and perhaps permit my verse in support of his:
Buai as soul told
Souls and buai sold
Health and strength stoned cold
Skills thus slip from bold
Hopes dashed by scold
Search for kina hold
Help's without withhold
Beg weighs unto fold.
Posted by: Lindsay F Bond | 26 September 2019 at 08:29 AM