Sunday, 3 August 2014

~The Boy ~

~The Boy ~
In the densely dull dark, next alleyway,
Who has curled chafed fingers — unwashed,
Uncombed greasy, sunburned hair ..
He, with his noiseless eyes,
Counting, tallying,
The crumbs of life, tossed unto him …
And —
His gold fishes,
Eyes open wide — gawping only …
Calling out,
Sucking in gratis air,
Boy, from untaken barren around,
Fishes, from the nude surface,
Calling out, again,
Filling their lungs again, with superfluous air, hungrily …
Calling out, yet again,
They want food,
To be filled, thoughtlessly,
Choking the wind-pipes, wolfing and devouring,
A little food, one morsel of anything .. something …
Hitherto … Fishes do not want these glass globes,
And their stale ashy water,
Bubbling their seemingly endless world,
But .. pond or brook, lush and leafy  
Boy … such callow,
Wishes for a jar … an earthen urn …
To call it a home ……
Thitherto — with paradoxical desires — syncing,
They sit as one,
In the densely dull dark, next alleyway!


  1. What an amazing write. So sad. Makes me wonder about his back story...

    1. Thank you so much, Keith, for giving it a read ...

  2. You have really given a glimpse of his life, Sadia. So hard to recognize that he is undoubtedly one one thousands. What a difficult path he follows.

  3. A beautiful, albeit sad, write.

  4. this is a bit heartbreaking you know....the challenges and trials so many brought his story to life...i can not accept that people go hungry...i know they do...but why...why do we let that happen....

  5. Heartbreaking yet beautiful... you are blessed ainy, blessed with magic of words :)

  6. This is a heartbreaking situation...and yes, many are just in the "next alleyway" close, within our reach. A very emotive piece of art you've chosen to accompany your piece as well. Great to see you :)