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
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