When I see him buying balloon, which I am vending,
When I see him in fancy getup, which I am wanting,
When I see him having sustenance, which I am daydreaming,
Forces me to interrogate,
Why I am seized of well-being,
Why I strive for my earning,
Why I starve for my solids,
Why I strain for my solace,
What is my age for,
What is my birth for,
What is my purpose of work for,
Some people treat me well,
Some treat me untouchables,
Some do a face-off,
We all street nestling, with varied hopes,
Many a times, we try to climb the rope,
Forgetting we have been thrown into the deep well,
With a stone tied at our back, that wrenches and make our existence swell.
This poem won in Instagram Weekly Contest held by @delhipoetryslam on the theme 'Street Kids'


  • So little words yet so deep!!

  • Sooperb Akka…words wonderfully woven into a cloth so simple that has the ability to overtake the grandeur of a jari cloth. Simply glorified !


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