SQUATTERS

They crouch in the darkness

And crane their necks in fear

They crawl like tortoises and lie low

Like battered slaves

They drown  in insomnia in elusive huts

As their hearts pulsate ferociously

In the full glare of the sun

They are rained down with torrents of abuses

As their pleas fade with the wind

They are beaten to the pulp

And with their voices in shreds recoil in horror

They are homeless yet humans

Squatters or not!

They mourn at their plight

And in cruddy caravans of dread drift into the unknown