A Beggar in the street

A Sunday morning and me on the settee,

With perfect meal of juice and spaghetti.

But very next moment comes  a sound from the street,

fragile and weak but yet overly sweet.

My curious mind prompts the feet

Consequently I rush myself to the street.

There I see a man in ripped dress,

With clumsy hair and no address.

Instantly my question arises what he does?

Listening to which this shabby man buzz

" Day and night I play my flute,

in hope of getting some money or fruit."

I wonder if he knows, it's an off day,

Misery has made his life full of stray.

Courtesy - Google