thump- siddhi jairath

i was walking around my society when i came across an ongoing karate class, i noticed two underprivileged children staring at the same which inspired me to write this poem.

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“thump, thump”

with each kick, the target made of soft cushioning stayed stable,

the children, young, around 5,

kicked with all their might,

like a rock,

standing still,

even after the ruthless backlash,

of the raging ocean,

in the distance,

not too far, around 30 feet,

stood the 2 barefoot children,

in clothes, tattered,

watching in amazement,

picturing themselves in this very sight,

kicking away at the cushioned target,

enhancing their skill,

getting the opportunity to enhance,

grow,

“thump, thump”

they matched the thumping to the sound of their heart,

with every thump,

they marched,

not to the beat of their own drum,

but to the beat of stick in the arms of the raging man,

commanding inhumane “efficiency”,

crushing under the pressure,

upholding the weight,

not of the pen as they wrote their own future,

but of the plate of cement as they carried it towards a pile of bricks,

tripping,

cement rushing down,

a tooth chipped,

blood drip,

those thumps turned to patter,

not too loud, quiet,

“pitter, patter”

with the pain numbed by the fear,

they dust themselves off,

getting up in a hurry,

and an arm,

bruised

a knee,

scathed,

and a heart,

sunk,

the thump returns, but not the thump of dreams,

a slap across the face,

“we’re sorry sir, we sincerely apologize”

“you. not we.”

the man says as he harshly grabs his arm,

throwing him to the ground,

bruised,

he turned his head,

not to far, just to the right,

his friend disappearing into dust,

“you’re talking crazy, there isn’t anyone else lad and i’m tired of your bullshit”

he stood there, lonely,

the quietest emotion,

with the loudest feeling,

as he walked back home,

bruised,

heart,

shattered,

with nothing to show for this,

just a coin,

worth so less,

meaning so much,

his feet pattered,

upon the ground,

“pitter, patter”

there was one last thump,

of the car,

as it crashed into his very being,

crushing his little to know hope with it,

there was no more thumping,

no more pattering,

at last,

there was a silence,

a silence,

that not a single soul noticed.