Saturday, 25 February 2012

A poem: A little boy

I've written this poem in Dec 2011 when I was feeling so dawn about my life.
It was about 2 Am in the morning and couldn't sleep. So I grabbed a pen next to my bed and a piece of paper then started writing something. This has several versions until I cut off some unnecessary stanzas and finalised it. So here's the final version.

Title: A little boy

There was a man,
Who used to run and walk in the jungle,
Every morning and afternoon
Together with squirrels, monkeys, butterflies and sometimes a snake

He used to live with a little lamp,
In a little house made from bamboos,
He used to run away deep in the jungle,
To save his life from the roughness of his drunk brother and father,
Then he had to crawl back to the house to get back his things,
Before setting off to school through the jungle with empty stomach

When he had a chance,
He went to a shop and stole pencils, books, sharpener and sometimes sweets,
He never wanted to do that,
He knew it was wrong to do that,
But then he had no choice,
Or he would never be where he is at the moment

He used to cry when he lost his pencil,
It was hurt more than when he was ill,
He adored every single thing in his bag,
Though the bag was old but he appreciated it

When he was a little boy,
He never had what he wanted,
He liked chocolates,
Cost too much to afford them,
He had to steal them

When he was a boy,
He never had new shoes and uniforms when a new term began,

The pupils used to laugh at him because of his poorness,
The other villagers used to laugh at him because he always wore the
same old uniform to go to school,
He was down, but he was strong in his world

Sharp at 12.40 in the afternoon,
The moment he had waited for since the dawn,
He ran out of the class and excited going back at home,
He was hungry and thirsty,
He stopped at the little stream and took his bottle,
Filled it up and drank it.

He liked carbonated drinks,
That day it cost 1 ringgit but it was a lot of money for him,
He never had it and he really wanted to know how it tasted,
One day he was walking to the shop,
There was a bus passing him though,

One of the people on the bus threw a carbonated drink cane out of the bus,
He ran to get the can and found out there was some left inside the can,
With a thirsty throat he drank it and he was over the moon,
He thought it was so delicious and loved it so much

He knew when he got back at home,
He will end up with rice and nothing else,
Maybe some salts or black sauce,
Or something very little in the can.

He collected snails from the river or maybe some eatable leaves from the jungle,
For his lunch to be eaten with rice

His childhood was a life,
A life with not a single challenge,
But many challenges to build him,
To be someone stronger and tougher,
Although he fell, dropped and slipped many times.

Crossing the bridge of life,
But he woke up and kept walking with no one,
Even his body was tired,
But the flame of his spirit was always on,
Because he knew nobody would be with him but himself....

P/s: It's a true story of someone...

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