vista

Gloomy dawn and heavy skies

A dying mother and a weeping child…..

How important few more pounds can be? Ask the weeping child not me!

For a few more pounds can save his mom,

Take the grief of the weeping child and the pain of a dieing maid.

He runs house to house for few more pounds,

Pitiless rain makes it hard,

As the soft feet cut on the obdurate stone

How chilly can the December wind be? Ask the shivering child not me

But few more pounds can save his mom,

Make his life shine with joy and bring a smile on the dieing maid.

On the street is an apparatchik lord,

“10 pounds a day, to yell and tell how great the mayor is…..

Stick the flag on the shirt and run the city for a fee”

How do you stick a flag on a shirt? Ask the shirtless child no me

But a few more pounds can save his mom,

Let him be a child he is, on the warm hands of the dieing maid

“Don’t have a shirt my lord, but for half the fee I can yell and run
The good sir read, all his rules and gave a look at the little boy….

“My poor boy! Flag has to be”

How do you stick a flag on your chest? Ask the bleeding child not me…

But a few more pounds can save his mom

Take the pain off his chest and the tears of a dieing maid

All day long the child has run,

with a flag on his chest and smile on his lips

Yelling how great the Mayor is…..

How does one yell with a bleeding chest? Ask the smiling child not me

But few more pounds can save his mom

Bring some light into those rident eyes and a life in to the dieing maid

As sun simmers down in the west the west

And rain is tiered raining, the child runs to the lord and says….

“Six pounds is going to save my mom and four let there be”

The mayor calls the child and shows, a banner on the tree

Stick the flag on the shirt and run the city for a fee

“How can one pay without a shirt?” Thou shall not ask me

As the sun sets and birds return to the nest…..

The child lies with a wounded chest

As his mother lies in a wooden chest

I ask “How important few more pounds can be”
                                                                                             sunil varma

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This is a story that i have read when I was a kid, dont know the author. It was something that was resident in me all these years and i wanted to write it in my own way. Due credits to it original autor.

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