Saturday, June 5, 2010

The streets...

I live on the streets
Where the sun blazes down on me

I amble in my ragged pants
Mama says I'm a beautiful child
I just think I'm a tiny black kid
Who likes to eat mud off the ground

Mama she says she's not my real Mama
She says she picked me up
On a day when I was crying for milk
I don't know what that means
But she's got to be my real Mama
'Cause she's all that I got

Sometimes, we find food on the streets
Mama picks it up for me
And feeds me with her tender hands
Hunger bites harder as I devour each morsel

But I watch my tongue
And I measure each bite
And then, I pretend to be satiated
The remaining grub is for Mama
'Cause I can see her stare at it
The way I do when I'm athirst

Each morning, I watch people in their cars
Their fragrance is an enchantment
The clean nails, the washed bodies
I even love to watch them cringe
Each time I walk towards them

Mama says I should ask for money
But honestly, I walk upto them only to breathe
To breathe in their freshness
And pat them on their shoulders, sometimes
'Cause I believe it makes me clean

Sometimes I get cursed for it, though
But I don't really mind that
It seems to wash the dirt away
It seems to make me feel unblemished
It seems to make my day

Mama says I can take a bath
For an entire month in a year
She says water falls from the skies
For unfortunate people like us
At times like these I only feel
That I'm glad to have been born unfortunate

I live on the streets
Where I don't mind the sun blazing down on me


  1. finally u atart writing and i simply loved the idea in both the poems, yaay!!!

  2. Thank you Pari...I'm glad you liked it :)

  3. @Kirti: I'm glad. That was the intention. Thanks :)

  4. OMG Uttara ! This is awesome.
    And this will make good for a rap version.