Walking along a busy street
Came across a little feet
Lost in my personal introspection
Walked away without rewarding a reason

Day by day it happened again
Tried I hard to heed, but all in vain
Same place same time the boy waited
May be for me to turn up

That evening I went early and waited
The boy came as usual with hopes animated

Looking into those innocent eyes
I enquired “what do you want from me?”
A delicate voice answered “will u write for me?” Muddled by those words and puzzled by that innocence
I sat on a bench beside as that innocence disappeared
Hauling my patience those words lingered
Searched for him but never found

Half mesmerized, half puzzled
That innocence left me heart bound
What to write a question terrible
Am I worthy or even ineligible?

I am not Shakespeare not Wordsworth even
Words my enemy reluctant to be woven
Never found him again waiting
Was it a dream or me hallucinating?

Decided then to leave a write up
May he come and secretly wind up
Titled it as above “Little Boy”..