Flew away in the sky,
Like a dream going high.
It was colourful and bright
As it reached the height.
The urchins had no work to do,
Kites were all they flew.
Scratchy, hot sun was at its peak in the noon,
When a group of village boys came out to bloom.
I found their zest touching my heart,
Is flying kite a real art?
Their visage brightened as the kites went high,
While some kites came down and left few faces with sigh.
I ran to one boy if I could fly the kite,
The dream to fly it made me bright.
Days they spent under the hot sun, bare foot,
Underprivileged were they to cannot achieve what they could.
Their kites, I saw going high in the sky,
Instantly I dreamt to bid their illiteracy Good bye.
Taking them to a city was a dream I held up high,
Someday my kite to educate them shall touch the Golden sky.
-BY TANYA SAXENA
