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 future held bliss
Maybe it did;
But what if it didn’t?
Help a child on the street today,
Speak kind words,
Leave traces of kind deeds
For you never know whose
footsteps would tread yours to freedom
More mature they may be, but more
vulnerable they equally are
And would hold on to every shred
of love they get
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