MALICE

The little scavangers,
At the school fence,
Piercing the school window
With a look tense.

A boy of ten,
And of five,
Accompanied with a girl,
Little bit a knaive.

Oh my God!

They're entering into the fence,
All the boys and girls inside,
Looking at them,
With great malice.

Somebody says, "Call the guard."
While some suggest, 'police'
But I'm at my wits end to know,
What creates this malice?

Is poverty their fault?

Don't have they any right to learn?
How many days still continue them to burn?

Unending series of questions never halts!!!

They're unaware of this
With a jostle of rubbish,
Drift them forward
Taking to vanish...

Dr M S Bhandari