A girl in a fresh
Yellow dress,
Smiles at her friends
Still in old clothes,
Playing a prince/princess
On the moving street,
Along which stand
Their rude castles
Of corrugated sheets,
The happiest person,
This child,
On the care-worn earth.
Down the snaking road,
A few shacks away,
Same impoverished
Space,
A thin couple sits,
On two plastic chairs,
On the hard concrete,
The morning highway,
Their open drawing room.
The dark man and woman,
Smiling, pleased,
With this twin addition
To their basic needs
Fulfilled, inside
A hovel, hot and grim;
The two most satisfied
Souls,
In a globalised culture,
Where close brothers compete.
The couple on the chairs,
Smiling and silent,
Being watched by the
Longing eyes of the neighbours,
So far denied these comforting seats.
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