Weaving her way through the maze of cars,
tiny feet hardly touching the scorching path,
Fleeting from window to window,
waving flags of her mother country;
Lingered a bit, staring at the big cone of ice-cream,
and at the young boy enjoying it……..
His mother hastily pulled him back,
away from her eye, and closed window glass.
The cars revved up, ready to move,
she retreated to the safe harbour of her nook.
Pursed her dried lips in an attempt to moisten,
as the cars raced past hundreds in numbers.
Glitzy, shiny cars — always in a rush,
for more speed, more money, more comforts.
Lifting her eyes against the harsh sun,
squinted at the figure up amidst the mad rush.
The lady’s lips ready to blow the whistle,
alert eyes watchful to catch rule-breakers.
THIS is it!
No more dreams of riding a car,
no more wish to own it.
Controlling hundreds of them
would be more like it!
A slow smile dissolved
in the dimples of the tiny girl.
Brightened her eyes with a twinkle,
as her mind was finally made up!
[Children, even at a young age, are aware of their circumstances. They also understand the futility of dreaming for the impossible and know the importance of aiming for something that could be achievable]