Living in a metropolitan city,
With a number of multistory buildings,
A lot of selfish people,
With a number of political leaders.
But in this whole city only footpath is left for me,
Only vast sky, black roads, traffic lights and posh cars I can see.
I never dream big and never went to school,
But still I know words like pencil, pan masala and water cool.
Every coming person is another hope for me,
I run towards him to make some money.
Sometimes I’ve to dance to make their smile last,
I’ve to jump sometimes to make them laugh.
I do all this to make money,
because I wanna live life and have some honey.
When the light turns red, my life starts,
It again becomes a joke and I’ve to dance.
This life is bound with an appointed time,
when the light turns green, this game stops.
Sitting near this traffic light,
I’ve this smoky breeze and mattress of dirty footpath to sleep at night,
I feel as if I am a clown,
Oh dear! Still looking at me why do you frown?
I am a person who does not exist,
I am a child, a poor child,
Let me live do not resist.
Don’t laugh at me please,
I do not do it willingly,
I just do it to make me breathe.
nice piece of poetry. What a keen observation. It is very difficult to compose ideas in rhythms.. Simply wonderful