I see you everyday

​

The accident of my birth

Wrought a smile on my onlooker’s face,

A smile elsewhere,

Where the unborn had naught.

We both grew up; one on a cradle,

Other on the cold concrete alone.

I would ask again later, “Isn’t it me I see over there?”

The same eyes, the same smile,

The same steps. “No,” you would answer,

For the accident of my birth has made all the difference.

                                                           

                                                                      ~Ishika Lal