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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.

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

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