On a busy bridge,
A child lying stiff and motionless,
A thin veil of cloth
Substituting as a dress
Hardly a limb flutters in broad daylight
So many who pass by,
Most of whom ignore the sight.
A women besides, begging for alms
Using the child as bait
Expecting pity from all passers by
Not realising there also could be hate (towards the woman)
Trampling upon his childhood by controlling when he sleeps
Denying him his mischief , for in business hours
Who wants to manage if he weeps
If only one can stand a moment longer
And not run away from the feelings that arise
IF only one could take a look at the innocent face
And not act as if doesn’t matter
If he was dead or alive
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