The Truth Behind A Street Child

The world has stolen away the childhood from me. I live to survive and not to play. Every twinge that has dwelt within me is seen through my eyes. These eyes knew of shallow bliss and profound pain. These eyes have seen plethora of photographs of despair. These eyes see no hope of a future. I lived in a world where dreams are hard to chase because even merely dreaming is a grave taboo. Sometimes, I ask: “Why are these things happening to me?” But no one answers. No one even cares to listen. I am nothing. I am no one― just a nuisance of the globe you take part in… a mistake that God had probably committed. I only have these bare feet and empty hands. And fate had given me a despondent life. The songs I sing may sound futile but those symphonies convey the tale of my existence. I beg not only of your possessions; I beg more of your attention. I beg for an answer to my question. I have got rivers of tears but those do not satisfy my insatiable thirst. I am fed of insults and stares and I reckon when my days shall end. In this life embraced of uncertainty and obscurity, the sun may have forgotten to take its place. In this eternal mayhem where I’m caught in, when I shall be free―time can only tell. I stand here and speak these words even if I was not taught how to. I stand here in front of you even if you do not want me to. Underneath these filthy clothes and dirty face still lies a child―a son not granted of an affluent family and a large mansion―a poor creation that teeters in the brink of demise and survival. I quest where in this colossal universe my place will be if I remain unseen and unheard. I wonder who had pressed the mute button. Till then, I would be spending all my Christmases along the streets and watch the lights change color after color. Till then, I would be bringing my empty can and wait for someone to drop even a candy. Till then, I would be a child chasing after my childhood and wondering how it feels to be one. Till then, I would be living the same old life my parents used to live―where hunger was ineffaceable and happiness was next to impossible. In the streets I will lie softly, waiting for Him to take me away.

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