Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Feb 2016
Begging kids are very often seen,
Performing the ridiculous dances,
In hopes of just some of silver dirt,
Cleaning with dirtiest rags your car,
With a lifeless looking baby in arms,
A teenage mama with another inside,
Such is any Indian big city's traffic.

Manipulating them is a hidden lord,
Report to Lord of the Traffic Signal.

Sympathy is what they hope,
Empathy is what we reflect,
Apathy is what they really get.
My HP Poem #1024
©Atul Kaushal
Àŧùl
Written by
Àŧùl  33/M/Kàrnál - Hàryáņá - Bháràŧ
(33/M/Kàrnál - Hàryáņá - Bháràŧ)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems