She was begging for money,
Silvery eyes, fountain of gloom,
Alone in a roadways bus,
Who cares, her heart's depth, life's fuss?
Little girl, barely seven years,
Perplexed by life and some deep fears,
In God's name she begged money,
Deprived of a normal child's life, sweetness of honey.
Her dry hairs scattered, as if any broken mirror by stone,
Sad, pathetic, thin, energy deficient every bone,
Spoke out her requests in a monotonous, learnt-by-heart way,
As if any tyrant behind, forced her to say.
Feared I to look at her, awful reality to accept,
Reading the miseries written on her eyes, even a stone would have wept,
Thoughts came, may be she was treated badly,
Heart craved to give her a toffee, let a child enjoy it gladly.
But the pocket was empty of any sweet,
A coin was given sadly, not something to eat,
Kids of her age, swimming on adventure's pool,
Was she even aware of what is a school?
The scattered locks of hairs, showed her mom's absence,
Hopelessness, agony, made everything dense,
Oh, most pathetic sight that could ever be seen,
Her right hand was burnt, scary, what it might have been.
Terror came in heart, widespread like a dark night,
Not a silver line to find, silence accompanied with fright,
Just one wish, just one query to ask,
'Who did it? just tell, it was which brute's task?'
Why was it done, may be because she was a girl child,
Does it makes others certified to be wild?
Oh, this world, will it never change?
Can goodness go widespread beyond its confined range?
