Holding a bag ,
Picking some rag.
He saw a cart,
In deep sorrow is his heart.
He consoled himself and the horse,
you and me are same,
helpless , needy ,sufferers and slaves.
Can I do something ,
instead of labour?
Can i get freedom ,
to do what I want?
His dreams all set to fly high,
But again his poverty had cut its wings.
Tears flowed down the eyes.
Who is going to see my widowedmother?
Who will treatmy disabled brother?
He looks at the bag,
He looks at the rag.
This is my world,
Thisis my work.
He looks up at the blue,
No money,no freedom I want,
but i pray to you,
Never give such sufferingsthat I have got.
Rag is his book,
Dustbinis his school.
Shattered he looks.
Picks up his bag,
Picks up his book,
"Now I am ready,
For my next school."
What did you think
Comments
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Welcome to Allpoetry
Very thoughtful of you to write it for the children..
Do post more of such work.. hope u enjoy being around..
Archana
Site Greeter
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