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Sunday, November 29, 2015

Street Child

Tattered clothes and a bruised face
And looking oh so lost and wild
Orphaned and abandoned by all
He is called merely a street child

He stands all day at the traffic signal
Running from this car window to that
Begging for a glance and a few coins
His small hands outwards spread

Most people shut their ears to his pleas
And others simply avert their eyes
 They sit in those air conditioned cars
That remain symbols of their pride

They do not take in his appearance
Nor hear his futile desperate cries
To avoid him they speed up and leave
Failing to notice his fear and fright

They speed up to warm meals at home
While he begs for little crumbs
No refuge, and without a shelter
He sleeps on footpaths and in slums

He wonders quietly why he got this life
Where he is treated like a rabid dog
Ignored, leading a loveless existence
Feeling like he is the society’s rot

So next time you’re at a traffic signal
Please do give him a tender glance
All he needs is a little love and help
And at life, just another chance

Trust me, just a little help and love
Will for him go a long long way
And that small smile on his face
Will definitely make your day

© Copyright Renu Vyas

Tuesday, November 24, 2015

Behind Closed Doors

Behind every closed door
Could be a story waiting to unfold
Of sighs that remained unheard
And words rarely spoken or told

There could be moments of laughter
And maybe many secrets kept
Fears, lies, happiness and smiles
And some tears silently wept 

Some people could have lived here
And lead awesome, amazing lives
Or maybe it was just a dismal place
That was full of sadness and cries

Whenever I gaze at a closed door
So much does my imagination see
I wonder if there’s a lost soul inside
Reaching out with its story for me

So yes, behind every closed door
Could be a story waiting to be told
All it needs is someone to unlock it
And to share, relive it, and unfold

© Copyright Renu Vyas

Saturday, November 07, 2015

Never Judge A Book By Its Cover

Never judge a book
Merely by its cover
For you never know what inside it
You might just discover

The cover may look
Old and sometimes worn
The pages may have yellowed
And sometimes maybe torn

But many untold stories
The book may in it hold
That never have been heard
Nor ever before told

There may be characters
That become your friends
Who will stay with you
Forever till the end

There may be great plots
That keep you mesmerized
Captivating your heart
New emotions may arise

Treat it with respect
And give it a fair chance
Don’t judge it by its looks
Or make opinions in advance

Remember that the words 
Are a writer’s sincere attempt
Do not be so harsh
As to treat it with contempt

So never judge a book
Merely by its cover
For you never know what inside it
You might just discover

© Copyright Renu Vyas

Tuesday, November 03, 2015

Tissue Paper Society

Those old loved landmarks
Each with a memory attached
 All bulldozed and replaced
By new impersonal structures

Those small winding roads 
Where we once took long walks 
On warm summer nights
Are now four lane highways

Those pretty small shops
Filled with colorful knick knacks
That we often browsed through
Replaced with city malls

Those friends we depended on
Now strangers we cannot connect with
Stuck in the games of social status
Wary, distant, cloaked in formalities

Those relationships that were
The roots of our existence
 Now discard us, only to replace
With newer ones that change day/night

Welcome to this new 
Weird, Unemotional
Disposable, use and throw 
Tissue paper society

© Copyright Renu Vyas