Poetry

The Kid and his Coca Cola

Through the smeared street where he lives,

Letting his absence discrete from Ma,

He scurries his way out to the Bazaar

Ah! The Bazaar! Where resides his heaven!

 

There lives a chemist, who so often humiliates pa,

And then there are outlets that sell everything good in the world,

He can’t have any of them and he just knows it,

That pa doesn’t have the fuel which runs this world, the green leaves and shiny pennies

 

But he has an eye to look beyond these dark sad alleys

A sun always shines and he knows where,

Near Abdul Kaka’s mart lies his treasure

And the chests come not in silver or gold, but bright crimson

 

Crates full of half-empty glass bottles of coca-cola

The potion within resembles pa’s smutty wine in color

And gosh! It tastes heaven!

This heaven unlike others comes for gratis

 

He never leaves a bottle un-emptied, saving himself from such a sin,

He licks every last drop of every single solitary slender in the crate

Someday, he may be moneyed enough to buy and leave the bottles half-emptied for some poor little scum like him

Till then, he can feast on his treat with blithe and blasé.

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