Termites: Gnawing Pockets !!!A Poem by Floating on the feathers of a dandelionI saw this lady in a metro train with a baby collapsed in her arms and the myriad of people passing by her, with not a single kind heart taking a single step towards her to offer her help.... We, the supposed "Samaritans"!! Huh!
I saw her from a distance, perched on the footpath, Hardly draped into anything Shreds of clothes hanging loose on her body Disheveled hair, strands flying away revealing the receding hairline Heavy eyelids burdened with the cruelties of life Blues of eyes colorless with harshness Rolling drops acknowledging the inadvertent acceptance Parched lips parted in a futile prayer The soul pleading silently for the life of the inanimate body of the child, laid in front of her Living or dead, hard to make out Not older than ten years An uncorked empty bottle of medicine tethered to the uncontrollable wind Some bread crumbs littered around his body A flock of crows eyeing at the sumptuous food While dogs licking it clean taking breaks only to sniff at the almost lifeless body An old brass plate sparsely filled with some dried fallen leaves No nickel shines from the plate No one from the passing crowd seems to have even noticed the shattered lady awaiting the end of her child’s life As I come closer I find her body paralyzed with pain I give her a sympathetic look and move on with the crowd Just like everyone else, disappearing from the pitiful beckoning sight Ignoring, if any urges to help, spare two words of kindness or stroking the cold bodies breathing life “I can’t let such things gnaw at my pocket and neither do I have the time for something so unimportant, after all it does not help me get a new business deal or does it!” I just move on like everyone else.
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Added on May 25, 2008Last Updated on May 25, 2008 AuthorFloating on the feathers of a dandelionUnderneath blueeeeeeeeee sky, IndiaAboutHmmm.... About me ?!?!? I am what i would have wanted myself to be, i am a butterfly when i want to tickle the flowers, i am a bird when i want to compete with the flecks of cotton, i am the river whe.. more..Writing
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