~Breakfast

The sun would shine on others,
while they would just smile back from the shadows.
Fragments of broken plastic and spit smeared stones
Play with those tiny palms.

Why do the birds fly?
Why does the sun come up in the morning?
When will you buy me a new dress?
The questions are their lullaby in the starry night.
Mother hides her tears
In the faltering light of the only lamp.

Even the stars don’t shine some light on them.

I chat with them for a while
And look into what I might have been

Rags are what they collect, rags are what they wear..
But through those crescents in their moon like faces..
As they take their samosa-pavs home..

They cause a tempest in the pectoral crux.

Lullaby

~
She would hide behind the door..
Loving the toy she would never have..

Strange longings bred in her heart..
Incubated by the laughter of the others..

A veil she uses..
To hide from the emptiness..
The skies are open..
But her kite would never fly..

She begs not for alms..
Nor does she pine for clemency..
For what she folds her hands, I know not..

Tiptoeing through the seas..
I look on..
As her back is lost..
In the blanketing mist of darkness..

Her breath shallow and eyes lost..
She lay in his doorstep..

Picking her up, I carry her away..
And close her eyes..
She whimpers in fear..
The dread of nightmares..

For a tear that wouldn't come,
In a stammering voice..
I sing a lullaby..
With all my heart..

A lullaby to put her to sleep..
A lullaby to make her dream..once again..

Sleep, my child.. sleep..