Melting in fiery heat,
Buried in a deep hollow,
Holding the hope in gasping breath,
Lying the senses, faking themselves,
To colour the life, they dig colourful stones..
But,
Buried beneath being alive,
Not a hollow it is neither deep,
Thousand eyes pass through the way,
Only a few has sight it seems,
Aren't their arms strong enough to hold?
A hand there waves but not at me!
Why burning I feel inside me?
My tummy is not at all at peace,
Many fathers go past me -but
No one bought me a piece of cake..
Mud and dirt is my body's seal,
Maybe my soul is worth not a penny to be sold,
If I too were a stone buried deep,
All the eyes would have beemed,
And all the hands would have fought,
To caress me, hold me high and tag a price,
To take a big pride in owning me as their proud child!
