The last nineteen years,

My nights were disturbed

By a peaceful,but terrific dream!

A small child-

With black face and red lips,

Filled eyes and torn clothes-

Smiles at me

And after shedding the,

Feather- like hair,

Walks into darkness

I asked my teachers-

For a definition

Mathematics mam said;

"Yea,

Area of a triangle is half b-h"

Biology mam thought loudly;

"Without oxygen we cant live"

Chemistry miss exclaimed;

"Hydrogen bombs are disastrous, indeed!'

My barren, mind

Pulled me to the airy streets.

When I was standing there-

As decide where to go-

Through the criss-crossed roads,

A feeble voice called me;

Oh!The hungry childhood of the street!

I looked for some coins

And looked at her face,

The same black face.......

and querrying smile...............

Her sad feeble voice-

Gave me the apt defenition!

Slowly-

I walked back

WITH PEACEFUL-BUT DISTURBED MIND...........................