In
a night of glazing light,
Crowded
streets and hawkers’ treats,
People
were lost in their talks.
Were
eating, munching, talking and laughing.
And
there was a sight
A boy
came by,
Looking
as dusty as that street.
With
his small, dirty finger, my thigh he knocked.
The
colourful things he was selling
Were
the balloons that caught my sight.
He
was pale and light,
“Must
be hungry” I guess from his breathe.
I
offered him the pizza in my plate.
He
refused my offer without being hesitate.
I
saw his balloons and I looked at his face.
“Colourful
are the children of his age.”
His
colours were absorbed by the balloons he sell,
Hunger
for food made him colourless and pale.
He
went back and sat on his pal pavement.
He
couldn’t sell anything, today nothing was his achievement.
He
was nodding his head ‘coz of sleep on his eyes.
I
could not bear the sight.
I
went and put a note in his hand.
He
got conscious; he put it in his tore pants.
I
was about to start my pizza,
When
I saw his mother came by,
She
disturbed his dreams, when he almost closed his eyes.
“Sell
all four or food no more.”
It
made him ran like an electronic toy.
He
forgot his sleep, his hunger. Oh! Poor boy!
Nobody
was interested in the balloons he offered.
But
I felt connected with the pain he suffered.
I
called him and bought all his balloons.
His
face glowed with a smile, just like that moon.
I didn’t
eat a piece but I felt like I was full.
His
face glowed with a smile, just like that moon.
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