Sunday, 22 April 2012


He likes family house,
It is a beautiful coverage of greens,
He moves around,
Playing with kites.

It is not his house,
It is neighbor’s house,
Aunty does not call him,
He thinks he has nothing.

He looks with interest
At the little girl,
She sits on the lawn,
With her dog.

Green passage,
One day he goes with football,
With no boot
He kicks the ball to her.

She looks at football,
Does not move,
The dog runs after it,
And catches it and barks.

He feels anger,
Aunty rebukes him a little,
For tackling football on ground,
She does not like.

When he passes the road alongside,
He kicks the ball to the ground,
And looks at the girl,
Her aunty now does not call him.

He grew up like a street boy,
He cannot rule his destiny,
He moves from place to place,
For money to feed his stomach.

He has no war with his destiny,
He has no war with his love,
He has no sympathy on crimes,
He wants to live as wise one.

One day he comes with his wallet
Filled with money,
Aunty is old,
He does not find the girl.

He brings nothing,
He tries to find and talk with her,
Aunty only says, “She is married.”
He thinks all is cleaned up.

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