>He Comes in the morning, we are still asleep,
Oblivious of outer world, while he picks our crap.
He always stinks, and I feel like yukkkk,
Sometimes I pity him, for his hard luck,

He goes from house to house, but seldom his own,
Leaving his son every morning,who has not yet grown,
I detest him, “What a filthy person!!”,
For he wears the same stinky clothes,come may whatever season,

I eat the sandwich, with the coffee or juice,
He works so hard, so that he can pay off his dues,
He works hard in the summer heat,
while I enjoy my wine and meat,

He toils hard for his family on the footpath, well so do I!
But he dreams of unending work walking all day, and never to fly,
I throw a bowl of rice, didn’t feel like eating,
His children have not eaten for last 2 days,

I wear my new jeans, my 3rd this month,
His wife mends her dress, coz its time for festivals,
My kids wanted a new TV, I bought it today,
His family was happy to get a gift, a new roof cover,

Had a party at home, for its new year’s eve,
We ate good, drank and it was fun to groove,
Next day I didn’t see him,”Must be celebrating!”
I was pissed off by afternoon, coz the garbage was smelling,

Two weeks have passed, and I know he won’t come now,
Some drunk drove on the footpath, and “The Ragpicker” was gone.
His face appears before me, whenever I see the rag bin

I perhaps miss that wrinkled face,his gleaming eyes,
and the yellow gloves on his hands,
Though I got someone else for the job,
His picture in my memory still hangs.