An Orphan Child Poem by Sruthi Varma

Born in the hut as a child in the hands of poverty.
Mud as my carpet, under thatch.
With angry sun as my friend, who turned my skin dark.
Finally left as a stray on roads.
Walked with unknown thoughts splashing my pretty brain.
Being aloof myself.
Stepped miles and miles in search of love and care in this world.
Neither the light showed me the right path
Nor the darkness stopped me from moving ahead.
Finally i have seen a paradise with innocent pretty flowers of my kind.
Who are left to this nature like me.
They are the raindrops in my life.
Reason for blossom of smile on my lips.
My paradise.
Orphan age.