Baskadia

IRONY OF HOPE
Look I outcast in the dead stillness of the night
When the moon is fair,full and bright
On the cold cobblestone I lie
Butted like the butts in a filthy ashtray
Hark! Alone am left in corners dark
And within just a few paces
In the clean well-lighted places
They lie with their mothers hand on them
On downy cushions,in warm beds
I know the rains,the cold
I feel the hope of dreams and joy taking hold
I know too well the scorching heat
That roughens cheeks and burns my barefeet.
As I admirely look at them every morning and evening
Passing by the company of their parents
Going to their future maker
But I too breed hope in my dream
Of being a father in the near future
Giving too a company to my child
But my dream of hope is almost in anguish
For no school fit me
I only belong to nobody but the city