A Scrap Of Paper Poem by Sankaranarayanan Madavu

On my way home, I notice a scrap of paper, lying on the street.
It is inked beautifully,
but soiled and torn, as if with a message read umpteen times,
and left aside.
I feel curious what it tells,
I wish to pick up and read,
but feel a little ashamed, I am a well dressed gentleman,
and the street is crowded.
Had I been a child still,
not grown up in others' eyes like the Gentleman esteemed by my friend and all,
I would have picked the little scrap,
savoured the message,
quenched my curious mind,
and,
had a good night's sleep.