slimy smiles

 

Past me, as those breezy winds are blown 

I looked through the window of the train

To find the clouds go grey and ready to rain

I see a kid running on those streets with a kite

As if he can stop the rain with all his might

The mud on those roads is usual to him

Chances to slow him down are very slim

Looks like it’s all the same for him daily

But the smile on his face is nowhere close to be weary

 

Those families live in those city outcasts called as slums

Away from the world, thrown and detached

In the mud, they are blossoming lotuses

As a web of a spider, the strings of their hearts stay attached

Neither a benefactor nor a beneficiary as the world blooms

In those reckless lives they lead, is where love is being hatched

No one pays an ear to mend the pits in their houses and their lives

But amusingly they are great craftsmen, their souls are patched

With those carefully and systematically grown herbs

These wild flowers can’t be compared or matched

They stand all the wind and heat to grow as they wish

It’s not their will, they were and are ruthlessly snatched

I look into my life, to find those happy moments

Like that kid, and failed to fetch one even when the whole life is scratched

I know there are vultures waiting to pick and judge

In that pouring rain, the train is still rumbling,

 I will take a moment to keep this story close to my heart, latched.