My father died from hunger,
so did my mother.
I beg for food, yet my stomach is empty.
Toothbrush and toothpaste
I heard about,
but I never owned them.
I limp on one leg, for an auto rickshaw ran over me.
Hospital I went to,
but they threw me out.
Who am I?
A seller of balloons on the streets
for my living.
Tourists take my photos
for them I smile,
but they don’t know
inside I am crying.
In return for food,
sometimes I wash plates and cups and clean latrines in hotels.
At night I sleep on t...
Published on November 21, 2018 12:07