I carry it on my head,
I smell of what you all shed,
I clean your house, clean your place,
And yet you look at me with disgrace.
I see your dogs feed on nuts,
As I pick what drops out of your butts,
I smell of what you won’t smell,
But it’s you, who dropped this hell,
I am the one, who cleans up your loo,
And yet you think I am beneath you.
We are called human scavengers,
But it is us, who are scavenged upon,
For a penny we lift the stuff,
Stuff in which death will spawn.
Nowhere in world do we survive,
But India is where you see us live,
No matter what the world may say,
Our leaders sleep as we clean their shit, everyday.
Home » Human Scavengers
Human Scavengers
Archit Srivastava
Dr Archit Srivastava aka Archwordsmith is a practicing doctor, writer and poet. He has penned over 300+ poems and stories over 26 years from a tender age of 10 years.
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