Through my myopic eyes, a fleeting image of a little boy is formed on my retina A little boy in a little suit, Treading the familiar bushy routes before him The boy had neither escort nor directives And surely, he needed none For a 4 yr old on the road possesses more maturity than a 10 year old in ‘comfort’ Swiftly, she navigated through cars held in traffic An adventurous smile tugging at her split lips Providing snacks for impatient car-owners And though panting from car-chasing, She had a visible life of passionate content She probably planned to get off the street, Forsake her hypothetical ‘street-urchin boyfriend’, Give up this demeaning way of living, But I feared she wouldn’t! She hadn’t been wired to get off the street And sadly, she was too content to stage a forced exit. Children on the road and teenagers of the road, Not choosing to be this vulnerable Yet hooded and shrouded in the cold, Filled with shreds of hope that the fut...
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