the street kid

I am a girl
with my clothes partially torn,
You know why? Because
‘Street kid’ has been my identity,
When I opened my eyes after I was born.

‘Studying and learning in schools’,
Our people can’t afford.
Hallucinated when watches the rich peers,
Who sets their mind for future flying to  abroad.

None pays us much of their attention,
Neither of our oldies are served with any pension.
Since considering we people as the ‘minorities’
The richer themselves refers as the first ‘Priorities’

Hear my loudest cry,
Eyes has became critically dry.
Body seems to be thinner day by day,
Cause the tummy isn’t full everyday.

Nobody pour their love loads,
By giving us a blissful kind stare.
Wondering where have been our gods,
Irrespective of many angry glare.

Why to throw the extra food,
All away?
If it can prove to be good,
By serving someone’s dish for a day!

We often get time to sleep,
As broken pieces can be felt inside very deep.
Even though we play
With friends on the heap,
Of dumps.
Our livelihood is cheap,
Living as clumps in our respective homes
Which the people on the seventh sky called popularly as “SLUMS

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