Skip to main content

Posts

new stuff....

Broom not bloom

Once came in my way
a small helpless boy
with a broom in hand
Not a book or toy

Jeans rugged and old
His shirt had holes
Was in an uproar
A one less hope

Tiny little hands
Dull crying eyes
Screaming yet shut lips
Skin brittle and dry

Looked up to me
With a tear in his eye
He kept mum
But I heard his outcry

I was up in the bus
And in foot he stood
Willing to be like us
If he could!

I saw him for a while
Then my bus passed by
But he was still in my sight
And it made me realise

There are many out there
Alike as him
None to care,
Living near bins

I saw many others before
But never thought his way
A better life to them,
My only pray

The following day,
I searched him on street
For unknown reasons,
I wanted to meet

I couldn't do much,
I know!
He was just like us,
I wanted to show

I tried to help all I can
But my bad!
I never saw him again

Latest Posts

the untravelled road, judged so more...

My Speaking Soul.....

नन्हा मन सोचे हरदम !

my life is just.....