His bleak piece of meat,
Cacophony of his grief.
Sweat shrieked on his skin,
the scuffle for vittles to win.
Destitute, the eyes,
Never dared to dream a care!
He shook my hand
And tried to share,
A plight of his daily nightmares!
Bottomless pit, bereft bowels
His rags and dusts that travel.
What are toys or his plays,
All he thinks is to manage his dreads.
Tussle for life, an endeavour to feed;
His hunger, a different greed.
And we share a meal and some joys
His innocent smile and tiny eyes
Departed as I; taking a Sigh.
Silhouettes drawn of strayed life;
The meager truth of an Orphan cries.
© 2020 Khwabo ka Sapna