On The Skids

Like a stray dog he looked here and there In search of what I couldn't decipher But was humbled to count upon appetite As the plea, for food, money and care might be Solemnly grown and nurtured In his flesh and soul not yet consummated Upon the curse of time and circumstance But reconciled him to the dust with indifference Though at the sight of anything he got scared And at the slightest provocation barked And at the sight of a drop of water and a loaf of bread If stumbled upon incidentally he paused And mused, " Is it food or toxin In play to my agony lessen or worsen "? And out of hunger and thirst Blended with stupor and bewilderment He fervently savored and moistened his lips Parched for many days Like a brook now overflowing with liveliness abound After a rainstorm when the earth is scorched and withered Only to see himself blessed by the providence To stay alive and in reminiscence And to keep this body of flesh and bone roll on Left open blood that had been Draining fast until grossed out unto other world Neither discriminating the sting nor discerning the healing as savored And the day following was bright and fair People around were busy looking for pleasure And as usual the world looked beautiful yet mischievous As he resumed his act of sloppiness Destined to ferry this burden of life ashore Lest capsized amidst of fatigue and hunger