An Unheard Voice Poem by Namita Rani Panda

Sitting under the branch less bare tree
polishing the shoes of the civilized men
in the scorching heat, chilling winter and heavy rain
making them shine like mirrors
where I look for my bright future
but they reflect my dreams
stained with brown and black only
and like my stained hands
my future is painted with black shoe polish.
My hopes mutilated like the branches of the bare tree.
My eyes like the lenses of a binocular
long to embrace the grand life beyond my reach.
The men in cars with gaudy dresses,
the children in shoes uniforms and school bags
ignite me to dream unreachable dreams.
Don't have I the right to dream?
Why do you call my dream a mirage?
Why is my voice unheard?
My foggy Future is moving confidently towards dark night.
Please do something to stop him!
Please respond to my unheard cries!
I'm waiting anxiously..!