The Unknown Child

Wearing a tattered modest draper, wide eyed,
she stood amongst the maddening crowd.
Lurching traffic, shrilling sirens,
amongst all this craze, she cowed.

An instant plea withheld in those eyes,
her constant pleading, pitiful tries.
A child with fragile arm holding few alms,
she stood in merciless sun, yet showed no qualm.

Sweating within their cooling cars,
disgusted by child's hands and it's scars.
They paid no heed to her constant banging,
life is too fast and she needs no tending.

Some spit, some threaten with consequences so dire,
some with lust in eyes, try to pierce her attire.
For them, she is no child, she is just another urchin,
they care no more, as vultures perched in.

She hopes beyond the hope, someday she aspires,
she would get it all, what all she desires.
For now, she ignores this melee,
she moves ahead looking for a new destination,
for people with more alms to plea.

she knows, her new destination would not be so different,
just new faces with same apathy, similar indifference.
Putting up a brave face, she still moves ahead,
Leaving just questions in my mind, as she fled.