At a corner of the street
I paused to think
My favorite pastime
To observe and think
The stories of others
And the relations
That ought to be
With me and my environment
One broken home
Heritage gift
Yet it had a star
With bright golden lights
Just like us
In this festive season
Cold and yet
Hustling as if
There is a prize at the end
When there is none
Just pain and melancholy
Whatever little happiness
That we strive for
Before everything is
Long gone
©SnehalDeb