Glitter Poem by shreyan roy

From the gloves of the limo driver,
stench of last nights sex from goats leather,
brought from italy feathered like silk,
glow of hand above the wrist by glitter of gold.

the polishied edges of tires below,
and the black glasses on eyes that glow,
i stand alone in the old dreary lane,
i saw a money brat its view is mundane.

smoked the ground as is veichle breakes
makes a noise in the dust that shakes,
the sole of dead putrid peels of snakes,
acted as if sun rays are unholy and toxic.

he's lust for the love of gold,
was tied around his neck so old,
the glitter of is ambiance,
showed my dreams the needed essence.

On the roads to the buldings,
huge and only for the blindfolded,
by person known as his holiness who sings,
songs whose meaning when asked will be scolded.

the stairs of the building are fillied,
wih people whose roads are sealed,
by arms extended towards all truly blind,
where gates are opened to the cruel and unkind

i saw a boy whose spine stomach tries,
to meet his spine and cries,
made his eyes so dark so hazy,
his father looked dreary and a bit crazy.

came the rich brat at the same stairs of his,
the child so as in his thoughts,
lost in his innocent imaginations and torn shorts,
unknowngly pushed the glittering man.

now the uncleaned brownish wrinkled hand,
touched the silk brought from another land,
and stood everybody when his hands reached,
the black dirty cheeks of the innocent.

he left like the god whose statue is inside,
what rules? what divine does he abide?
his gold lost its shine,
in my eyes it losts its vibe.

my unwashed pants and pocket so tight,
when i put my hands inside,
a note so small, old.unsmooth and unbright,
which was my sweat of today

uncared of my calls of hunger,
i brought some choclates, gave it a try
my unpleasant accent towards the innocent cry,
giving him what my hands holds for him

the glitter of his eyes,
tought me what i dreamt were all lies,
his smile gave of an ambiance of truth,
of what happiness is all about

the kiss of glitter of gold,
was never as pleasing,
as a kiss of mother so old,
these smile is an antiqe unsold

the glitter of his eyes was priceless,
was not worth the note i had,
it was more a lot more to the poor health
than the glitter of infinite wealth



- - shreyan roy