Monday, October 6, 2008



Aside an erection site,
in the heaps of sand.
About a three feet-boy,
toiling with his little hands.

carrying stones over his head,
moving the big bricks.
He was made to dance
over fate’s unfaithful tricks.

for a future with bread,
he is slogging in present.
He hadn’t a playful past and is not
allowed to live being innocent.

Within him had grown
a man, angry and wild,
and I foolishly had
Mistaken him for a child.

Savla Viral L.

1 comment:

Pratz said...

another masterpiece...touching and thought-provoking...

p.s. thanks for ur comments on my blog... not suicidal..was once..not now [:P] lil?? Me elder than u dude...(if ya still 17 that is)