A rag picker picking dreams
In a lifeless broken house
was a life which bloomed with grace,
she was innocent, tender and little
but maturity was reflected by her face.
The bag on those delicate shoulders
should have been carrying books and not garbage,
she shouldered the responsibility like adults,
she was way too mature for her age.
She walks barefoot on the road
with no worries of her feet getting filled with dirt,
she has not much of choice of what to wear,
she happily wears her tattered and torn skirt
Wearing pretty dresses and comfortable shoes
she watches children of her age,
they go to the playground and she goes too,
but they go to play and she goes to pick the garbage.
They sleep on cozy beds
just drifting off to sleep with no dreams in their eyes,
she on the other hand sleeps on the floor,
not having a comfy sleep
but with tonnes of dreams in her eyes.
The world sees her as a rag picker,
picking nothing but waste,
but she is not like any other girl,
she picks her dreams and not just waste.
– Sehrish Fuzel