The Balloon Seller
by Prajakta Pandit
To one side of the road, grey buildings lie
To the other, concrete factories high
Reaching toward the smoky sky
Except for cars, the streets are bare
Shades of grey lurk everywhere
But is there anyone to care?
Suddenly, there appears a balloon seller
Bringing with him every colour
How dare he makes the place look fuller?
No one opens their windows wide;
Each and every soul stays inside.
The poor man says, "At least I tried..."
Disappointed, turns back, the balloon seller
Taking with him each cheerful colour
That might have made the place look fuller.