Matters of the heart

A drop of tear for the small girl on the street,
longing for comfort, warmth and a yearning for care,

A prick of consciousness, for the old woman staring out into the distance,
like looking out for her long gone son, knowing well he isn't coming back,

A jab of pain, seeing the woman in the tattered saree,
No aims and no dreams, I wonder what would happen to the child in her arms,

The small boy who is using the make shift wheel to move about,
Wouldn't he have the wish to run and play as well my heart rends,

And mankind runs after money and fame and power,
Does it not seem shallow?

Makes me wonder, nothing can be more relevant or important,
Matters of the heart...
They make us human...