I don't even try...

Everywhere – around, behind, at the front, and by the sides, the ugly and cruel face of poverty stares at me, mocks me. And, I see the mockery of life, brashly laughing at me, on me. Innocent faces wearing the mask of adulthood; soul – deprived of love, of care and yet getting on with life in the manner they have learned – begging, cheating, enticing the flesh hunters and getting poisoned, intoxicated to forget the worries; the realities for a few moments. These few moments are their bliss and they live in these few make-believe dream moments – only to get back to the world they know. I wish I could change their world, make it better in some way. Their world pains me, keeps me awake, and makes me cry. I feel ashamed over my helplessness and for the fact – I don’t even try…