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Monday, April 6, 2009

A Winter Morn's Tale

Touched by the icy fingers, 
of the cold wind that blew. 
I began to walk hurriedly, 
to escape the snow that fell anew. 

Wrapping my imported shawl tighter, 
I tried to keep out the cold. 
Still, it's icy fingers touched me, 
and held me in a vice-like hold. 

Hurrying along, I saw a little boy, 
slowly walking down the street. 
His teeth chattered, his body was blue, 
for the cold crept up his bare feet. 

"Poor boy," I muttered to myself, 
I wish, a blanket the poor thing had. 
Shaking my head, I cursed at the poverty, 
that caused him to be thus ill-clad. 

Reaching the haven of my home, 
I almost forgot all about him. 
Not really my mistake, was it, 
that my memory of him became dim. 

He lay on the park bench, 
the next day I saw him again. 
With anguish, my heart burned, 
and I almost felt his pain. 

"Poor boy," I muttered to myself, 
I wish, a blanket the poor thing had. 
Shaking my head, I cursed at the poverty, 
that caused him to be thus ill-clad. 

A passr-by heard me and said, 
"For him, no mortal comfort will do. 
He's dead now, and it won't matter, 
whether he has one blanket or two." 

It was still bitterly cold, 
and the wind was strong. 
Cold I felt, even in my warm clothes, 
for I'd been out fairly long. 

I pitied the poor boy, 
and for his soul I prayed. 
Once again, I blamed poverty, 
and wondered why it'd been made. 

Somehow, somewhere I felt remorse, 
and faced a feeling of guilt. 
'Twas like the pain of a sword, 
buried in my heart, to the hilt. 

I didn't understand why I felt so, 
I hadn't done any wrong. 
Brushing it away like a snowflake, 
I shook my head, and simply hurried along.


Me said...

The crossroads where one has to choose whether onE has to be logically practical or humanly emotional always takes a toll either when it becomes a regret later on or being thought as an impractical emotional fool there upon..

Corinne Rodrigues said... well expressed. How often I've passed by people lying on the road - felt compassion but not done a thing about it - because it would be 'inconvenient'.....

Shreyans Mehta said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Shreyans Mehta said...

Awesomely written... u can feel the pang...

I guess the problem is in the mindset that "Insensitive is practical". All that leaves us with is pangs of guilt later followed by similar things happening to us with no one to bail us out.

The definition of practicality needs to be practical enough to include compassion and kindness. A truly practical man thinks beyond the urgent, for the important!

Nikita said...

A few months ago i saw this girl on the road, dressed in rags and bawling like a if she was mourning something. It was the first time my eyes went moist seeing a glimpse of poverty and i realised that it was because this was the first time i was really allowing myself to notice the pain. i generally tend to look away because it's so much more convenient to say 'life's like that and i am not responsible'.

wonderfully expressed

Megha said...

Wow, nice poem. There's sympathy, pain, dark shade along with a selfish bite in the poem. Nice irony.

Kadambari said...

Very well expressed! You've combined so many emotions in those verses, so beautifully.

Hakuna Matata said...


On one side, I was intrigued by how you described the cold - an intertwining of physical discomfort and emotional discomfort and on the other, the subtle guilt and denial.

Kokonad said...

That's a nice and rich composition! Love it!

Tangerine said...

really well written. m touched.

n howz microsoft?

Scriber's Web said...

touching poem. How's life? Can't wait to read about your exciting adventure!