Poem -

THE INDIGENT

Every day l watch

A grim visual

Outside a milk -booth 

in the City Beautiful. 

Crates containing empties 

of customer-consumed milk 

allure a crowd of urchins 

with their mugs and bowls. 

Whosoever is quick to collect 

the left -over drops

calls it a day 

and runs away. 

Maybe be to provide 

a succour -diet

to a baby brother

or an aged parent. 

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