A mother’s heart is always a mother’s heart <br />The breast milking for those toothless gum <br /> I mourn for the dead children...... <br />Are they not blessed? <br />I weep for those uncared infants....... <br />Are they not cursed? <br />I wail for those little hands searching <br />for the remnants in the garbage <br />And my hands stretching to all those <br />staggering little legs <br />The two little hands wiping my dining table <br />make my food undigested <br />The two little hands picking rotten grapes <br />from the gutter make me sick to the roots <br />The soft touch on my knees-two arms asking for alms <br />unwashed face, shabby tangled hair, loose big garments-unfitting <br />My heart picks these children home.... <br />I carry them with me....anywhere....everywhere... <br />I look back...tight little fingers on my saree.... <br />They follow me causing me discomfort <br />They pin me down to earth <br />They keep the floor burning hot for my legs <br />They keep my food half-way to the mouth <br />I want to do something...... <br />Am I not helpless.......? <br />Am I helpless......? <br />Am I also not an orphan like them.......?<br /><br />prasanna kumari<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/children-an-obsession/