Dreams are not longer
filled with hope
when curiosity finds
a new reality.
A shameless world
where children are sold.

For you, who’ve been so brutally discarded,
for those who’ve been inhumanly afflicted,
by slave-drivers, masters, the power-addicted:
I draw this line for all you brokenhearted.

How do you remember the sun
and its bright morning melodies
in a place devoid of its golden warmth
in hands devoid of mercy

On the train to the city of money.
Passengers hoping for something new.
Outside, a display of daily living.
Eyes predict a darker view.

I see a boy with devil's horns
Sell red balloons
Shaped like hearts, on Valentine's,
For just a few rupees