We live in a world where-
misery is loved,
Hope is foreign,
Faith- turned scarce.
Living is dreary,
Dying is norms.
Tears have dried up,
The soil is bloodied.
Wealth is secluded,
Walls are put up,
Humans are shut out,
Colour is a measure,
Of worth of living.
And the life, many are living.
the beautiful image I used above is courtesy of The dream store
A little boy- as he roams the street,
Bare feet- scorching heat underneath;
He runs without shoes;
He don’t care,
about the 40 degrees radiating on them.
The teenagers, bathing in the stream-
Green with algae visible undersea;
Half naked, with bruises on their skin
Each scar, a story-
But they don’t care
Just glad to have a place to bath in.
The young mother- baby in her arm
Clothed in black, covered with a scarf
Hands protruded in search of alms
Heedful of pity looks, towards her child-
But she don’t care,
Will take it in;
As long as the baby gets money for milk.
These I saw on my way to school;
Riding a bus, overwhelmed with guilt
And compassion towards humanity;
A pair of slippers, a few pounds
Even a faint smile-
The difference it could bring about.
In the strides of his feet,
The protraction of her hands,
The ripples of the water,
As the teenagers splashed about;
I found something I wasn’t searching for-
I found humanity… or rather,
Humanity found me.