In the stinking abandoned hut, he drags

His mat bed assuming a new, ugly shape

Mice go through at will, his faithful pals

Like a snail, he shoulders his shell of woes

For indeed, no option is given- none whatsoever

What’s his worth, his fate, they wonder.

One  meal a day, just to keep him kicking

Two visits: to feed and to clean his mess

Two pairs of raiment ti’s all he owns.

No company save for cockroaches, rats,

DD’s  adept drawings sneaked in secretly,

And a radio, especially when it’s in shape.

He takes a moment to ponder on the usual 

It lingers on his innocent unexposed mind

The ‘Why Me’ question of course which is,

A puzzle whose pieces are, sadly, missing

Maybe, maybe they’ll be found and then-  

 A new chapter would be written.

It is a riddle he cannot unravel,  being ten

Can’t walk, dribbles, and is tongue-tied 

Bewitched, the grandma says, that’s what

‘ In the shadows, the invalid must dwell.

 In the oblivion, for none wants the curse’

The birth mother is gone, six feet under.

How would it be like basking in the sun?

Playing in the sand with peers ;reading,

Drawing like DD, his brother, does? 

If only they would see his deep longing

To be listened unto, not just  be seen, 

For touch, a chance, hope, and for love.