The Searcher

He wanders from door to door
In search of…
in vain
He begs, pleads, prays and hopes
to find an open heart
with a giving hand
For a microscopic
fragment of somebody’s health
that would make him a millionaire
in his small world
No dreams, ambitions or wild desires
Just the hope that
his tiny hand will be full today
But more often than not
he encounters
closed doors, deaf ears and unseeing eyes
and his fists remain clenched
enclosing nothing but
air

© Sunil Rajguru

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