She grew up with laughter,
At the dinner table,
Holding hands across the street,
Kind of parents-
She was that kid with pink ribbons,
Daddy’s doll;
He was that kid- a replica of
hand me downs,
Wiping mama’s tears and cleaning
After papa’s mess,
He was that kid with barely average
On every test;
Life after dusk brought women-
Drowned in assortments;
Men elated for the peace at home.
Kids cradled- by soft hands
who’ve not experienced,
The touch of labour,
neither it’s sweat.
Life after dusk brought on a stench,
The kids knew too well;
An image they wish-
They could forget.
Life after dusk is different-
In every household,
Some build sweet memories,
Some dim the lights
Of Children, and their innocence.
Randoms by a Random 