Santosh Kumar Pokharel
(Dedicated to All the Poverty-Stricken Kids of the World on Xmas Eve)
Exactly at the mid of the night or around
One or two of night every round
When the cattle in the sheds are silent
And all the world is sleeping sound.
Hoots high in hunger, deprived
Grieved are so many to be found.
I have been witnessing this so long
This won’t any more me astound.
In remote rustics and suburbs
In towns, slums, on streets and curbs
This is quotidian and every night news
Who else could speak out their views?
See several times to this I bowed
Still hoots hunger aloud and aloud.
Be peace upon you and peace instill
May hooting this night your bellies fill!
Patience, patience again tonight
New year should commence soon
Christmas has almost arrived
Santa may bring you silver spoon.
Unsure of this if happens, then when?
If happens you won’t exception remain.
Wishes are wishes, my wishes good sound
Get fulfilled your wishes get happy unbound.
