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Freedom And Poverty

 

By Priyanka Basumatary

 

A pair of deep brown eyes,

Bright like the sun.

Staring right into mine,

Made me forget for a split second,

The darkness clouding my mind,

His, didi!

 A quick reminder to pay attention,

So, I did.

The brilliance of his eyes,

Wasn’t enough to hide his skeletal figure,

The urgency in his voice gripped me.

I need money he said,

I haven’t eaten in days.

My hands already knew the answer,

The child grabbed the money and ran.

Maybe, he would end up with food in his belly.

My eyes followed the movement of the untamed child.

He ran like he had nothing to lose.

Quite baffled, I realised.

Freedom isn’t necessarily free, it comes at a price.

In this case, freedom comes with chains of poverty.

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This poem won in Instagram Weekly Contest held by @delhipoetryslam on the theme 'Street Kids'

4 comments

  • foNkTOZsYHPmnjg

    treQXERSb
  • UTVDNIhyoXCl

    sbkKMDovuygLx
  • Poignant!

    Rashmi Buragohain
  • Intense point made.

    Shiney E. Miracula

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