Lost: One child, age unknown

The carefree smile has left,
Gone beyond the precipice yonder,
Left the little child bereft
Of satiety and wonder;
His laugh is cynical,
Picked it up from his teacher,
His passions are cold, clinical,
Came from his preacher,
He faintly recollects what it was to dream,
Like a movie seen in younger days,
He wakes each night with a piercing scream,
Beyond his window goes not his gaze;
Exacts hover on his mind now,
Been long since he paused to see a tree,
Or touched a flower,
His poems now spell Pee Vee equals See;
His lungs burn as cinders glowing
Of coals feeding the pig-iron melt,
Smoke from his nostrils flowing,
Been forever since he understood what he felt.
The child in me is dead!
Mourn him!
I do not cry, I don't know why,
Punished for what sin,
But I'll tell you what he said
As he lay, whispering,
Goes by my name, but not my kin,'
The child in me is dead,
The humanity that came from within,
I grieve not for soon I'll follow,
Mother nature following humanity into the garbage bin.

(c) 2003, Shaunak Agarkhedkar.
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