There Are More...

Carrying my bag, I passed the down

Saw there sitting awful

The cutest little boy of the town

Near I went, bit nervous to talk

I saw him weeping,

Sitting alone on the block;

“Hey”, said I, wanting to know the reason

Slightly looked up he

He has cried the whole season

I offered him a chocolate thinking him my brother

He took it and sat quietly

I thought he wanted another

He didn’t seem to feel good

I could see on his face.

He wanted his parents and good food

The sight touched my heart

He ran towards his mother

Who also wept, standing by the cart

Not just this boy, but there are more

Still facing poverty, helpless

Waiting to have their own roof and door…