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Law of Karma
A skinny six years old,
Stood shivering on that cold
Foggy January afternoon,
Selling colourful balloons
At the traffic light
It was quite a tragic sight.
Matted hair, barely clad,
Looking forlorn and sad.
In her bleak eyes a desperate plea
I couldn’t ignore but see.
I bought a balloon for my grand child,
My eyes with tears blind.
I was overcome with guilt,
Warm in my car custom built.
This rich poor divide is
Is just getting wide.
Earning a living, lost childhood
I found myself brood.
Basic necessities
To live with dignity
Is everyone’s right
I pondered as she went out of sight.
So young, withered and wane,
Is this Karma pre ordained?
poem
by
Mamta Agarwal
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