Street Children

By Tia Wins


Sitting by the streets
as the wheels roll over
I see a bottle brunch on the sun
that reflects onto my eyes
Spots of black, blur away
revisiting I stare into the vision of life
A concave I call my mother and
a penny that defines my strife
Walking under the lights
To the red the cars stop
Till the green I butter by the doors
Sometimes famished handed
The other times with a bunch of roses
Shivering my nights
I snuggle up against the tar
Lost innocence, love, affection
No humanity be par
Each day that's building bolder
Shining brighter than the stars
Struck hot I am an iron
weighing more than all gold
I am my only legend
Side walks are my throne
Here I display my grandeur
Feeding chums from a bread I stole
Some came here being bedraggled
Now families built by mafias
Some came here out of pauperism
Now that streets make their home.

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

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