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O Lord
Behold O Lord, behold this scene,
A woman selling her body away,
Dancing to the rhythm of coins
She must warm thy domestic curs:
She has a belly she must fill,
Thou deny her bread;
She was born and so must live,
Thou deny her death.
Immoral! Yes she is
But thou drivest her to this;
For thy worthy sons
Out of morality must not step;
And she must live a fiendish life,
For the poor soul is so cursed to breathe. [1955]
poem
by
Om Chawla
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