The sound of a falling coin woke up the boy; <br />A clinking sound, <br />One, he had hoped to hear all day long; <br />But luck denied. <br />The shops closed one by one, <br />For them, the day was done; <br />And his hadn't even begun. <br />Twice he was shoved away, <br />From a nearby shop, <br />Where he'd gone a begging, <br />For a bread. <br />No one, from morning till the wee hours, <br />Had thrown any alms, he said. <br />The shopkeeper turned a blind eye; <br />And sneered he didn't give credit even to God. <br />Tired, starved, and weak with fever; <br />All he could do, his tear dried face; <br />Was lying down and shiver; <br />Gradually slipped into a deep slumber. <br />Only a street dog, equally deprived; <br />Kept him company. <br />It was then, in the wee hours, <br />He heard a clinking sound, <br />The sound of a coin falling. <br />Quickly, he woke up and stared; <br />And found the coin rolling away; <br />Towards a nearby manhole; <br />Now open to let the torrential downpour pass. <br />He dived and saved the coin in time; <br />Jubilant, a new leash of life. <br />Dragged himself to the same shop; <br />And the same sneer met him. <br />He put forward the coin; and bought his bread. <br />It started pouring heavily; and he retreated <br />To the scanty shade he put up, <br />To save himself from the rain. <br />The dog came running in, also drenched and starved. <br />The boy looked at it and the bread he halved; <br />And gave the dog his share. <br />He smiled and thought; <br />Tis strange, for someone who's starved and rot; <br />I give credit, even to a dog.<br /><br />Shruti Goswami<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/credit-4/
