The Little Balloon Seller

In a tattered skirt and dirty blouse

Holding a bunch of blue balloons,

Her little voice almost squealed:

‘Please buy one, just 10 rupees’.

 

Giant guards spot the tot,

In no time her bunch was burst.

Scrawny outcast was not allowed;

A taint to their plush upmarket.

 

Damsels holding Gucci clutch,

Handsome men smelling rich,

Bratty kids crying for candy,

None heard her sound of a sob.

 

Walking back home empty-handed,

Thinking of her mother’s face

Waiting to hear the clinking of coins

To buy dinner for the whole family.