Rickshaw and the Puller

Rickshaw though born in Japan,

The land of the rising sun,

Reaches many nations,

Aiming to extend beauty and offer, for the poor, options.

 

The rickshaw of three wheels,

The puller pensively feels,

Has been a blessing,

Ever since his own wheel of fortune is in confused swing.

 

It’s his Mercedes, helping him earn the bread,

Even its least trouble makes him utterly mad,

Some days prove to be literal cornucopia,

Others give birth to misery inside the messy dystopia.

 

Pulling the much-loved rickshaw is what he is destined to do,

Whether soaked in rain or prevented by the sunlight, the wheels must go,

Lunchtime for him bears hardly any meaning at times,

The children’s faces let him forget all the sadness while he climbs.

 

The rickshaw is his existence, the true friend ever,

As if Helios’ ‘chariot of the sun’ transformed its nature,

Regardless of slight sporadic healing, it’s always ready to rock,

The puller doesn’t give a damn if the drivers of motor vehicles try to mock.

Reviews

[Jen]

These are the best lines: "It’s his Mercedes, helping him earn the bread,
Even its least trouble makes him utterly mad,
Some days prove to be literal cornucopia,
Others give birth to misery inside the messy dystopia."

And you know i really liked your easy explanation in the last stanza: "As if Helios’ ‘chariot of the sun’ transformed its nature,
Regardless of slight sporadic healing, it’s always ready to rock"

Yeah, the poem is excellent and totally different. Thanks for sharing this poem. Keep it up!

[Md. Ziaul Haque]

Thank you so much. I'm really glad that you liked it.

[Jen]

You're welcome