Shikha's Journal

“Merry Christmas”


Deep inside my heart

I feel grieved

For being homeless.

Yes, I have a family,

I have a home

Still a homeless and I am sad…

Same feel like that poor kid

Who knows there is a Santa but only for rich.

Yes, I feel the same…

I have a family I have a house.

But it’s not a home

Not even a happiness.

It’s not for me

Not for them.

Its just stones n bricks

And walls n walls… Doors n windows

Beds n pillows

And emptiness

Pinching me everywhere with pricks.

This is not a home

It’s just a mere house.

Although it’s big enough…

Big enough than required for us,

Still, it looks tiny

In comparison…

When I see happy families lying on the streets.

No food no shelter…

Still immense love

And all that matters…

I am happy to see them smile.

Sometimes envy

Because I just fake it all the time.

Although I am happy but not true

I have dreams I have rooms,

I have books… I have all for need,

But not what is basic, a family indeed

I make a wish to far situated Santa Claus…

If you are real then I have to ask

Would it be a big deal if I want a home for me for us?

Like most of the people

For this and every christmas…

No big surprise games in shopping malls n party halls

No heavy celebrations.

Nothing at all.

Just one wish for people like me across

An actual merry christmas overall.


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