The sky shimmered
Danced and glimmered
Bracing up to welcome the triumphant boy
As he travelled up and up on cloud nine
Or was it cloud ten?
Surrounded by beaming women and guffawing men
He had unleashed a miracle by the power of his pen
There was laughing and kissing
Feasting and gourmandizing
Up and up he travelled, head in air
Heartened by an accomplishment rare
Didn’t he deserve every moment of this joy
This high scoring boy?
Ninety percent was no mean feat
So upward sailed the boy with joy replete
Thumping vigorous fists in the air.
Like dying hope flickered
From the pathetic little furnace outside the patch work shack
Where sat a boy, a tiny shoe shine boy, poorly knickered.
A heart heavy with sighs
Dreams in his eyes
The wind whispered a consolation
Whipping him with nine or maybe ten lashes.
A truck trundled past, and enveloped the shoe shine boy in a cloud of dust.
Ah, he had to finish his work- that he must.
He looked up at the skies. Rubbed away the dreams from his eyes.
He had always given hundred percent to his work.
Maybe in some corner celebration did lurk?
But alas, his dreams paled
Before the dreams of the boy who on cloud nine merrily sailed.
Invisible and desolate, lost to the world
In concentration, his lips he curled.
With forehead creased, in the job he immersed.
But lo and behold, the invisible boy suddenly became visible in the gleam
Of the shoe that he had polished.
Ah thus was realized another dream
Someone had after all heard his anguished scream.