The Unsoiled Mind Poem by Rakshanya Sekar

His fingers stretched in urgency, his arms ready to grab,
He looked up for a hundredth time clutching his torn fab,
He wished to lose no more, for today was a special day,
His eyes glimmered with hope, a rupee more? He prayed.

As the master tossed a two, he could be thankful, no more.
He tied it to his sleeve at once, for his pockets were dirty torn.
He smiled, with a sense of gratitude, his eyes had a story to tell,
He slid, dusting the ground, finishing he looked up again.

A new set, he thought, for this was his regular train,
He had done this all along and the people were almost the same,
A few kind, he had known, but the most, disgracefully cold.
Be sympathetic or disgusted, a penny they tossed utmost.

Today seemed different, all too meager to care,
He jumped with excitement, for he was almost there.
Stood up to dust his clothes, his knees evidently scarred.
If not today, he might have grimaced, he stood smiling instead.


He stepped on to the platform, before the train had stopped,
through the inching crowd, he ran to the closest shop.
Holding it close to his heart, he ran, and wished could faster,
He opened the woven door, peeping in through the covered mat.

Tiptoeing he went in, stretching his bare dirty claws,
for he knew nothing of the child, his mother held now.
He tucked his possession behind, She will like it? Thought he.
Denial wasn't his worry, but was it the best for she?

He slipped the candy beneath, and was proud as ever he could be.