Spent hours on work
a living torso of dirt
He feels his pockets
To hear the sound of money
Nothing to the ears
Is what he fears
For he has many to feed
To save his next breed
With his sore hands he disturbs the steel
To buy some bread for the night’s meal
Searches the market for the cheapest he can find
For he doesn’t want empty pockets left behind
Struggling to walk he rediscovers blood
Bare footed as he walks on the seemingly burning mud
For late if he reaches the structure that can hardly stand
Sleep, might his siblings do as hunger they can hardly withstand
With the fear of carrying less
He comes close to the artistic mess
Weak he feels,as if a soul departing
But has to move on,to keep promises made while parting
Hardly to his senses he opens the door of tin
To the relief of the young he finally steps in
Life comes to the faces of hunger
But those who could not resist have to slumber
With an alarm they set off for the deal he brings
Hoping to smell the aroma of a few good things
But as everyday they find the stale bread
the foul smell of which gets to their head
But this is what they have to live with
For reality is to be cherished more than the myth
with joy on their faces and weeping hearts they munch every piece that comes their way
As laughter and happiness stay far away
Blinded by tears he watches them on
for he knows days of misery are far from gone
but for now lets cherish this meal
As wounds of time tears can’t heal
For them he is the only hope to live
But wish god does forgive
Those who fail to save
Their loved one’s from the roots of the grave
He sustains their fate
for destiny always chooses someone
For them he is god
Only the smaller one…..
(Writer is a Final year B.Tech student in Himachal Pradesh University)
Manik Sharma reads and writes, and that is about as interesting as he gets.
