Once I Came Across a Faisalabad Slum
Once I came across a Faisalabad slum,
Garbage, mosquitoes, and flies all sum.
Residents welcomed, inviting me to come,
I hesitated, reluctant to sit,
Forgetting it’s my own garbage, thrown in a pit.
A dirty hand offered a handshake,
While a clean hand took a break.
The sun blazed down like a raging fire,
Amplifying my thirst, igniting desire.
A dirty glass offered me cool water,
Making my ego face a slaughter.
I felt ashamed a bit,
Dug in the same garbage pit.
Realized under the same sky,
We all share the same night.
I learned that day, behind a slum,
It’s me standing like scum.
Once I came across a Faisalabad slum.
(Image courtesy of Photo by Eirene Thoms via Unsplash)
Hanzla Mehmood
I am Hanzla Mehmood, a creative writer since my school days. I write about various social issues, history, politics, and current affairs, expressing my thoughts, ideas, and observations in words. I write boldly and openly, never compromising on the truth or to pressure from external forces. My goal is to modernize the moral standards of our society and raise awareness about the common problems people face from birth to death. My writing has been published in Yuvoice.com previously.
Thank you to Molly Corso for their inspired edits on the piece.
