Through The Glass Window

A crossroad, crimson signal, a brand new black S-class Mercedes Benz
The one chosen by a measly street urchin for alms

Tapping, knocking, scratching the flawless glass
Exasperated, lest the shiny window be stained, the dame
Tosses an impatient coin into those filthy waiting palms
Lighting up the 4 year old’s juvenile face

One rupee- two ice lollies, savored with brethren
Friendly pats, hugs and smiles; living the moment in mom’s embrace

While the French manicure dame watches through the glass, and thinks
Of her return to a concrete haven where expensive statues and empty walls greet
Promiscuous father, socialite mom, empty promises, step siblings… and…

The lights turn green, the car speeds away
While she stares at the receding boy’s frame
And wonders who the poorer of the two really is…

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