Street Boy
He walks alone,born without a silver spoon,
An orphan who had no place to call his home,
Picks pockets in the day and hawks chips at noon,
At night empty bags of cement he uses as foam,
He's a nice boy but condition made him bad,
Sometimes he helps people to carry loads for a dine,
Had a dream that he became rich and he was glad,
Which made many to come to his home to dine and wine,
He was caught next day and jungle justice applied,
Beating to coma,his body lies still and cold ,
Thought he was dead,he was left to take a journey ride,
Reflection of his life came to him in manifold .
9-4-2017
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