WE ARE LATE ALWAYS

I gave some money

To the temple

For my good fortune

And prayed to the God

“Oh! My God,

I gave money

To the temple,

Please give me

Good fortune instead”

 

While coming out

I saw one boy,

Standing in front

One hand is rounded

On his thin belly

I was wondering

What he was doing

Extending one hand

Catching up air

And one handful of air

Reaching his mouth

And leaving it there!

I took some time

To understand that

He was so hungry

And asking for food

I put my hands

Inside my pocket

To take some money

And give to the boy

I soon remembered

I must have some

Money with me for

The offer I gave,

While praying, to God

‘A good chain of gold

For my good fortune’

Soon, I took out

My hand from pocket

And pushed him beside

And gone off so cool

 

Next day in morning

I read that news

“Boy found dead

On one of the steps

In front of temple;

It seems, he was crying

And asking for food

To his beloved God”

 

My eyes, bulged out

My blood was frozen

Inside my brain

One lightning was flashed,

“Was it my push

Made him to fall

And hit his forehead

And made him dead?”

I ran in hurry

To reach that temple

To see his dead body

At least to give

Some money for some

To cremate his body

I reached that temple

To hear from a man

“You are so late 

His body was carried

By municipal workers

And might be cremated”

I realised then,

The God is with them

Who help the poor

And then, was too late


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Deva
Poetry
Free Verse
writing Deva
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