The presence of children like the dawn of day,
A blessing for man like an offering on a tray,
Their laughter flows like rivers from mounts,
Their joys shared by all those amongst.
\A child on a street somewhere in Bombay,
A child on a street not knowing what day.
Can you bear to watch them die in the South?
Can you hear them cry instead of shout?
\Why are some happy while others are sad?
Why can some get anything but others cannot?
Why do some play while others have to work?
And why can some learn while others just have to wait?
\Children were made innocent and pure,
But many do suffer because there's no cure.
The wars and the crimes some will go through
Will worsen our world if nothing we will do.

Rating:   8.667

Submit your poem