Dreams of Dew

The slender blades of upright grass look up To the unfurled sky dawning the day Over the unmowed meadow Their tips holding the pearly drops of dew Sparkling in the glow of the rising sun I see in them the faces of the children of fate Lighted by the smile of residual innocence Although for them their sun rises With no promise of purpose For it has already set in the dark horizon of future. The drops of dew don’t bejewel the grass They wash the dirt of our times Trampled they fall uncared and soiled Disappear ignored and abandoned In the glare of the blazing day The dreams of dew die premature. It pains me it hurts me To see their blank colorless hearts Losing the hue of joy of youthful splendor Flowing in tears to the drowning shadow of obscurity Nobody helps to hold the hands Nobody cares to show the shore. Before my sun finally sets I want to give its remaining rays To the sunless dews for them to glow in their time I want to drip the last drop of fluid empathy From my heart so their innocent smile doesn’t dry I want to show the children of deprivation The dreams of dew The dreams that never die. June 5, 2018 (This is in protest against child labor)