The Child on That Street - A Poem

The Child on that Street.
In my own rhythm and my own beat,
I walked through that afternoon heat,
having had no pity for the ones I cheat ,
was only disillusioned by the sore on my feet........
until- I saw the Child on that street.
I had myriad of complains like a fleet,
was ready to attack and never retreat,
using fire of anger to kill my enemy neat,
and hated love and people to greet..............
until- I saw the Child on that street.
I had sufficient money and enough meat,
but still cried to make parallel ends meet,
had ample of clothing and protection from sleet,
but thought I had so many deficiencies to treat...........
until- I saw the Child on that street.
I had wonderful home like heaven on a seat,
had parents wonderful and oh so sweet,
but I was blind, oh I was indiscreet,
I used to nag,used to bleat............
until-I saw the Child on that street.
With unreachable ambitions and skin with pleat,
he was playing with a torn kite as if a feat,
with happy sounds and whisltle to tweet,
unconsious of the afternoon beg and feed,
unaware of the famine of dearth and deed...........
found he was suffering from a disease no one can treat,
 He was the child on that street,a child of God indeed.....