The Darkness of the Moon

From dawn till late in the night Bare from the waist up bare feet too The bare wind caressing the bare body The boy of just fourteen Cleaning washing wiping cups and other utensils Serving tea to the customers all along smiling The sun moon and the stars looking at with the envious eyes From dawn till late in the night Whether it is green or black outside Whether the road sings or is dumb He keeps churning his body Bringing out flowers on the lips and eyes Of the customers as they smile and say Aaah at the warm sip of the tea bearing the boy's morning signature The green mango hangs from the bunch Of the greenish yellow leaves Looking at the tea stall heavy hearted The young student One feet on the paddle and the other on the ground In white and blue school uniforms Says to the boy Don't you attend school The tea boy looks fool At about ten one night When I was strolling the road by the shop He came smiling at me A new feature phone in his palm Perhaps wanted to say See, I have bought it With my own money But I was wrong Would you dial a number for me, uncle He said As I looked up to his face He lowered the chin There was no need to say I do not know to read the numbers The sky stood starless The moon hid behind the clouds He needed to talk to his mother Anxiously waiting for the call Hundreds of miles away I handed him the phone ringing at the other end A moment later His whole body was dancing with joy As if he had won the Helen of Troy Such boys and girls There are umpteen Spending their life Like the machine You find street children everywhere Sweeping the floor in the trains Selling food on the streets Mending and shining the shoes Rag picking, begging and stealing To stay alive Still ours is a welfare state Whose welfare? The state knows Whose state is it Obviously of the people matching the dresses of The Prime Minister Of the people matching the political party leaders Who are elected ministers even after conviction and imprisonment Machine are becoming humans At a snail's pace One day indeed they would win the Helen That would take Many a century Many a century _______________________________________ April 8, 2018 Written for the Social Justice - Free Verse Poetry Contest. But the engrossed mind forgot the line-ceiling and the poem flowed well beyond the stipulated 50 lines. So, this is for no contest.