Almost everything has changed so swiftly.
But still, there remains a curse,
Making its effect being felt immense.
This is the curse of poverty,
With its sound loud and raspy.
I cant believe, people struggling to strive,
Really unable to thrive.
Children and men who exchange sweat for some price,
But end up fainting, dreaming a mouth full of rice.
This is the curse of poverty,
With its sound loud and raspy.
I cant believe, seeing a beggar search warmth on a cold night,
Braving with a shawl under the moonlight.
There are millions, who live like this on street,
Strolling here and there, to find something to eat.
This is the curse of poverty,
With its sound loud and raspy.
I cant believe, a defeated mother poisoning her children,
just because poverty was her burden,
I see many of them living with major health ailment,
with sick and dying children, unable to buy treatment.
This is the curse of poverty,
With its sound loud and raspy.
