Slumdog Souvenir

No man is a dog; nor a dog, a man -
One can only be treated so.
And yet these metaphors are bad –
Which I now intend to show.

There are dogs on street and dogs at home
So, a street man can’t be a dog,
For then would men at home also be dogs;
Though never Bull or Alsatian; for all are one.

A dog’s got no moral sense; a man has at least some.
And even if he had none,
The categorization is worse, and not less;
For, a dog’s still known for its faithfulness.

The street boy might become a millionaire,
And a millionaire, come to the street;
A shack is still a home to someone;
A cover from the heat, a rest for one’s feet.

A child still laughs in the slum
A baby still cries in the palace
An eye still awaits one more dawn
While one wishes the night would prolong.

The slums have their dogs; dogs of different breeds.
Some belong at home; some rover on the streets.
But slums and all settlements are known for their men, women, and children;
Though rich or poorer they be;
They are one of us;
And in God’s sight each is precious:
Each one still one in a million,
Each one still a millionaire.

© Domenic Marbaniang, February 2009.