Extreme poor

Soaked rice vanishes before bringing salt
What about them again!
They cried throughout their entire life
Remain with sad bowing.

Wherever they glimpse
Just looking dry
Nothing close to hand
Miserable earth.

Life is for them
A large deep forest
But somehow walking
With broken mind.

If they step in the middle of the path
Sadness filled the air
There is nothing to collect, nothing remains
The house is always empty.

No morale there, yet they
Still remain active in working
How to get rid of stomach irritation
Sitting to think.

That's how life goes on
With them somehow
There is nothing new
On the way to the existence.

(Remembering those marginal poor.)