Sitting in the park,
With a punctured heart,
Unable to cry,
Or even smile,
I bought a red balloon,
On impulse,
Not knowing why.
I saw an urchin boy,
With a smashed plastic toy,
Searching in it,
A lost childhood.
I gave the balloon to him,
In front of me he stood,
With an unexpected gift,
The glee on his face,
My mood started to lift.
I made a tiny wish,
Can atleast God,
Unlike my heart,
Make this balloon last,
A little longer,
Than it logically must.
© 2009 Rituparna Das
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