Creative Nuisance

Musings From My Soul

A Moment For Them

with 5 comments

Sweating, he toils in the sand,
Digging as hard as he can,
Have we looked at his worn-out hand?
Or, his jaded feet, did we scan?

The sun is up and rough,
But, without a word, he digs on,
What has made him so tough?
Or, what inner strength does he don?

Not much of age, maybe ten,
Sure, he is not digging for gold.
What is he looking for then?
Or, … has he just been sold!

As his master gives him a stare,
He digs on, fearful of a bash,
Is it out of his master’s scare?
Or, because of the day-end cash?

Slowly, the light gets dim,
And as the evening settles down,
He returns to his hut grim,
But happy that he fetched his crown.

As he places the earned pay
in his mother’s hand, he smiled,
For him, a nonchalant end to another day!
For us: “Who cares if he’s still a child!

Written by Abhishek

July 18, 2010 at 11:32 AM

5 Responses

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  1. Your poetry always has a soul.


    July 19, 2010 at 9:18 AM

  2. A soul that pierces through. good post!


    July 19, 2010 at 7:48 PM

  3. this is too beautiful!..and moving!
    envy ur gift to put words together so elegantly!


    July 26, 2010 at 9:53 PM

  4. Oh .. this was such a sad, but true story!
    Very moving…
    Do we really care at all?!??!
    But why children?! Isn’t torturing adults enough?!
    (sigh)… too many questions… too few answers..
    You’ve put this message across very beautifully, Abhishek..
    Really appreciate your sentiment..


    July 30, 2010 at 2:28 AM

  5. I’m certain that most people are demons.
    This, and so many, many other atrocities committed by people proves that the majority are demons!

    “I think the devil doesn’t exist, but man has created him, he has created him in his own image and likeness.”
    – Dostoevsky


    January 26, 2011 at 4:17 PM

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