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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