A skinny six years old, <br />Stood shivering on that cold <br />Foggy January afternoon, <br />Selling colourful balloons <br />At the traffic light <br />It was quite a tragic sight. <br /> <br />Matted hair, barely clad, <br />Looking forlorn and sad. <br />In her bleak eyes a desperate plea <br />I couldn’t ignore but see. <br />I bought a balloon for my grand child, <br />My eyes with tears blind. <br />I was overcome with guilt, <br />Warm in my car custom built. <br /> <br />This rich poor divide is <br />Is just getting wide. <br />Earning a living, lost childhood <br />I found myself brood. <br />Basic necessities <br />To live with dignity <br />Is everyone’s right <br />I pondered as she went out of sight. <br /> <br />So young, withered and wane, <br />Is this Karma pre ordained?<br /><br />Mamta Agarwal<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/law-of-karma/
