Life's Like That Poem by Shagun Khera

You start from your home, nice and dressed,

Had your cup of tea, and breakfast hand in hand,

As you take to the road, you hit a red light,

And on the corner of the street you can see a child crying,

Tattered clothes, burnt feet and skin turning to coal,

Did he eat something last night, or is he starving to the soul

His parents lie next to him, oblivious of his cries,

Another waste of moment, next to them lies,

You start to wonder, why was he born,

Children are like roses, was he meant to grow up as a thorn,

While your own children play with the toys

These have been cursed and banished from all the joys

The teardrops vanish and leave a trail on his cheeks,

Compassion craved his childhood bleeds

Turning to bones, his body giving up on hunger,

His today bleak, his tomorrow getting blurred

Where the hell are those human rights activists,

Are they blind, or can’t they see this happening,

What is the government doing about these children,

Or they are just going to watch them as they overrun

Can’t anyone go and help them out, or may be give them food,

Take them away from the monstrous parents and send them to child rehabilitation for good,

No will do anything, everyone is selfish,

How you wished, something could be done about all this,

The signal turns to green, the momentary thoughts of kindness just vanish away,

And you are again on the street, worried about the day,

This is what we are, this is what we do,

Can’t we do something beyond thinking and do something needful,

Maybe stop on that red-light and buy that poor some food,

Or may be tell those blindfolded children producing machines the truth,

That they are your children, not meant to be born and used,

Or may be call a rehab center to help those children grow,

Or may be get together and let the government know,

Can we do something, that humanity demands and needs

Can we do something about that child on the street.