Orphan

An Orphan Boy

I see the orphan lad,


Each day,


He stands like a tree,


Staring at the horizon being sad.


 

Perhaps he searches,


For something precious,


Like lost diamonds,


Yes, valued they were, his mind urges.


 

He was like a forceful wind,


But has turned into,


A dead stone,


With a numb mind.


 

Orphan he is in the midst,


Of the society,


But not to his heart,


Where his parents ever exist.


 

Like a lost star,


He does appear to me,


At times think I about him,


And his thorny future.

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