Peanuts, the roasted peanuts
Children loves it very much
Peanuts, but money, always the problem
Peanuts, they liked so much.

Saved from the pocket money
Little they spent for meals
Used the savings in care
To purchase the roasted peanuts
The mobile cycle, peanut vendor
And his bell always welcomed by them.

Through the years of study
They passed with happiness
Posh jobs and heavy pay packets
Better eateries, they opted always

On an annual leave they came
To their village home with pride
Suitcases, presentations to relatives
Happily they spent the holidays.

Memory of the school days and peanut
Never he forgot in his mind
Hoped for the bell ring in the street
But in vain, never he heard it once more

Asking the mother the whereabouts
She told him the untimely death
Of the poor vendor in an accident
The mobile bunk collided with a vehicle
And an on the spot death of poor fellow.

by Gangadharan nair Pulingat..

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