The Hungry Boy - Poem by Rex Islam
A little living thing
With its head nodded
That wants to dig into the ground;
Its thick and frail limbs
With its digested utensils;
To reach for the relief camp.
From somewhere he had heard that
There he will be relieved
From all his anguish.
The nature itself
In its mocking outfit;
Trees bear not any blessings
Wind impure, stingy with rotten smell;
Light ready to gulp down
In its sheer barrenness,
Ground magnetizing the skin and bone.
Long last week he fed upon
The mud and unbaked roots.
No one knew whether the parents
Are already out of the pains
Caused from the affliction;
May be their lungs were week
To bear the hardship;
But our hero has the guts to face
The challenge even though
He has no power to turn up his face
And glance where he is heading;
But to follow the track
Made by his ancestors.
The long, fainting, fuzzy trail
Which meant nothing to him
And leads only the path to eternity.
Although he always dreamed
It to be toward the heavens!
Behind awaits the terminator
In the apparel of a vulture;
To peel the skin off
To feed upon the dried gland and liver
Or the eyeballs or the digested utensils.
It is larger than our hero is
But afraid to face
The best creation of God
Or its wandering how the God
Could leave his love like this.
Whether the divine love
Is already out of stock
Or the God has turned blind!
It could not be of the Divine Justice
No one knew of what had happened next
Whether it reached the sacred destination
Or whether he was relieved forever.
No it’s the ultimate out come
Of the human intelligence,
Where no measures were reported
Hereafter of what had happened
Of the famished, decaying mortal!
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