Bitter childhood.

They were in rags.
Dressed shabbily, unlocked hair, torn clothes
Bearing the sad countenance
They sat across the street for mercy.
With a wish for alms or food.
They went from cars to cars.
Sometimes, a coin or two tinkles in their bowl.
Staring miserably at the passersby
Hoping for a kind gesture
Happiness and unbridled joys were never for them.
Their childhood bitter, studded with harshness
Their world no magical
No fairy tales live with them.
No sweet toys to play with.
No ice creams, candies, lollipops to delight in.
Flying kites were like the distant stars in the far sky.
A life thrusted in misfortunes.
A world plunged in darkness.
Innocence lost, faded away.
'Growth' took its place.
Happiness was ever elusive.
Whinning for the desired things was faraway.
Nothing and empty were their satchels. Flung away.
An undesirable abyss it was.

Reviews

[Tbear]

Such a miserable situation so well presented. Makes me want so badly to grab up those children and do everything possible to give them a better life. The things we take for granted were so poetically listed..well done..
one question though.. are the children in rugs or rags... thank you for sharing... write on