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| Satbir Chadha |
DOES IT BEFIT A BEGGAR
Does it befit a beggar
To sing like a king
Chained legs
Hands tied behind
Flogged at will
Plastic rope tying
The mouth with
Parted lips
He cannot salivate
Let alone eat
Rotting morsels
Spitted at him
Hair all shorn
Tattooed scalp
Branding him rebel
Unpardonable
A big X painted
Against his chest
Marked to suffer
Layman's wrath
For those who don't know
Of his treason
A symbol to show
No kindness to him
Marched through the town
A lesson to teach
Kicked at every step
The other end to reach
But as he passes
People hear a rhyme
Of music so soft
Of words so pure
A voice so celestial
Gentle as the breeze
They forget to mock
As commanded to
They wonder why
So much torment
For such a simple man
His bald head shines
On his chest is a tree
Full of bounty
Harmony and peace
At each his step
Soft petals do fall
To soften his tread
On the road so hard
Gaping with wonder
They gather around
Marvel at his eyes
Full of compassion
Marvel too at
The beauteous sound
The voice streaming
Through parched lips
Parted with rope
And still he sings
The miracle man
The miracle child
Poor little beggar
Sings like a king
A miracle breath
Sings like a king
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