Gyanprasad Doesnt Have Shoes

Gyanprasad sits at my station
with his weighing scale,
and awaits unhappy people
to come check their burden on this earth.
They dont want to know anymore,
which means, he has to go hungry
Another day.

I greet him every morning and give him bananas
that my mother gives to me hoping
that I will eat them and fatten up,
just a bit.
But alas! daughters will be brazen
and hope Gyanprasad doesn't know the truth.

He speaks Hindi fluently,
and even bhojpuri, I think
I have never spoken to him,
I know I never will.
I'll only wonder to myself
Where all my old poems might be,
that spoke of lovely things,
isolated things,
sad things.
I realize then, that Gyanprasad
does not care about me.
Poetry isn't all that there is to life,
life isn't all that there is to poetry.