eleven grace mature. Poetry responsible

A Birthday Song

eleven year old boyTurning eleven  today
 an age of grace
 responsible in a way
playful in a trace
set your goals high
go with an impulse strong
as  your limit is the sky
mature like a beautiful song
rhythmic and melodious.
age. pain. Poetry responsible tender

The Child Folds

The child with tired eyes

sits there with no choice

goes about in endless tries

folds the leaves in speed

knows not its end-use and need

the tenderness of the hand is lost indeed.

wrinkled the tiny fingers look

mangled they seem almost hooked

yet the tiny hands manipulate  without brook

with tears in the eyes  welling beedi_1

and pain in the face pricking

a meagre amount in the pocket filling

the innocent eight-year-old turns responsible.