CHILDREN’S DAY

We are those unfortunate children of gutters
From the womb of the country’s wound ,
With darkness gnawing at our soul ,
Affrighted by onslaughts from all around ;

Some cruel adult hands stripped us

Of our pure, simple, innocent joys
Lurching us to grope as broken toys
In corridors of dark, lurid experiences .

We starve here, we die every moment here 
Inside and on the outskirts , everywhere
Without a name to our soul or our body ;
Without a breast to feed us , 
To succumb to hunger we are ready
But with a simple question lurking in our hearts
As to when is this land of ours
Going to Chacha’s dreams embody.

Comp. n copy right : saroj k. padhi
13/11/14