Poem - Shovels in the tiny hands

Shovels in The Tiny Hands..

The sweetest little face, glistening with sweat,

The innocence buried ,in  the covers of threat,

Destiny robbed , the dreams from his eyes,

An endless agony of poverty, woes and cries,

Everyday in his lonliness , he would think,

Staring at the unfriendly faces, without a blink,

No schools, No toys,it does not seem right,

Shovels in my tiny hands, morning till night,

Why had the world been so cruel to him,

Why is this hunger so difficult to win...

Eyes welling up  with tears, 

He slips into slumber,

Every Morning, 
The sweetest little fellow
Rise to work

with a twist of hunger.

                                                        - pakhi-