Child Labour

How worse it is, when food is the immense fascination to a child?

I'm at a bus stand,

I was actually seeing boys around the age of 7 to 8,

Selling pop corns.

They held the most painful smile,

I have ever seen.

I could see they were running all over the bus stand,

To sell their pop corns.

They were yelling, 'sola pori'.

At this age, every other children of their age,

Would be singing rhymes and memorizing tables.

On the contrary, they were yelling all around to sell.

A greedy desire to support their father,

And fill their hungry stomach at least one time a day.

Probably to overcome the nightmare of getting beaten,

When they don't make payment to some landlord.

They carried a plastic bag full of pop corns,

That weighed twice of them.

Maybe, the weight of sadness equaled,

So they don't feel like carrying it.

They were disappointed when people said no to them,

But they managed to pull their legs to another person.

They were asking each and every one probably more then once,

With a vain hope, people will buy.

I couldn't help but realize the fact that,

During the birth,

Their mother was in labor.

Until their death,

They are labored.

The sad reality is some child dream of a toy to buy,

And some to sell.