It Is Not The End Of Road

A usual early day to work by her car
She saw a small child in streets holding an empty jar
The scene stopped her for a while
A poor little boy with his twinkly perky smile
wearing a ripped dim rusty shirt
yet enjoying life with all these hidden hurt
how could we take all these blessings for granted
When others literally lost a lot and still are chanted
She looked down her soul she felt so small
it is not the end of the road to rise and fall.

by Raghda Ashraf Soliman

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