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For What Choice They Had?

Updated on June 3, 2017

For, what choice they had?

Thatched roof,

Water droplets making the muddy earth appear red,

Droplets sound like a monster thumping its foot,

Everything seemed eerie, prosaic.

Raw, half stale bread cooked on the stove,

“No more bread”, a shrill female voice retorted.

Her drooped face,

Her dried skin,

Her parched-pale lips,

Her rough tresses,

Her shrunken eyeballs devoid of hope.

She kept a piece of bread for the beggar,

For who could be richer than her?

She was rich;

Yet, she was poor.

“Bring my pants”, a heavy-coarse masculine voice yelled,

She engulfed the abuse

Else, what choice she had?

She had no choice.

Draped in a muddy-patched pant he left,

For, what choice he had?

Except poverty?

Hunger?

Thirst?

Boredom?

He had no choice.


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