Monogatari part Eins.

By Daiah   

Waking up to a room with no lights or door.
My version of an alarm clock is a leaking roof, with no ceiling board.
I rub my eyes hoping that for even a second my life would be a dream.
I get up, making sure to avoid stepping on any of my siblings lying on the concrete floor.
If this were an ordinary home I would go to bathroom and wash off but the whole house is where I am from.
I shiver as the cold breeze blows through my now worn and torn clothes.
Cloudy is what the sky is but that does not stop me from moving on.
I have to get enough water for the first half of the day, grabbing buckets and bottles the usual way.
As I go forward I see lights from homes I can't help but admire.
One day, my family will be the ones in safe walls and a place without need for fire.
The sun rises. I meet kids like me, who know what it feels like to go to sleep hungry.
I get in line by the communal pump and overhear stories of a certain couple fighting the previous night.
They talked about how amusing the scene was because unlike times before the wife was going to leave for sure.
They all laugh it off but I cringe. Thinking about the kids whose future will be filled with uncertainty.
How sad does life have to be that one can make fun of another's misery? A question I ask no one but myself.
I am drawing water at last and see cars drive past, as if in slow motion I see those in the front seats either grumpy or sad first thing in the morning.
How could people who can afford not to walk far not be happy? Before I could get angry. I hear a voice ask me what does it mean to be happy?

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    This Poems Story

    Painting the life of people some societies choose to ignore.