Being Human

September 15, 2010 Off By Tinam Borah

There was something special in his eyes
The little boy who stared at me,
From behind the dirty tea-stall…
There was something he wanted to say,
As he brought me a cup of tea.

I looked into his painful eyes
And gave him a smile
He didn’t smile back, but held his gaze…
He had brown eyes and a perky nose
Resting on his innocent face…

I asked him his name,
But helplessly he kept staring at me
I soon discovered he had no choice
He could not hear a word
And neither had his voice.

He was an outcast,
A burden to the family.
He was made to fulfill their dreams
He could not protest
He accepted his duty.

His eight years of life brought him no smile
He was doomed to a life of labor
But there was something deep in his heart
Unsaid, unheard, never to be let out
To be kept hidden, forever.

Maybe a day would come,
For him to realize his silent dreams
He could not speak, and perhaps never can
But he had all that he needed
The feeling of being human…

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