Backstreet-I

I've experienced my creativity reaching in dark corners of humanity, which has left me in a unconcluded world. We all witness unfair incidents, some out of us extend our help and some could pass sympathy and we all take away some lesson from it. 

Backstreet is a series of my poems from those dark corners, in which I've tried to bring my imaginations sweeping these unfair stories. Backstreet-I belongs to this a young boy and his mother who suffered from society's prejudice and an unfair challenge life threw at them.

So here it is...

A young boy from backstreet

An orgeat or a wine, 

We often found him in lay.

Though the backstreet had been despairing, 

But he was always grave and gay. 

None can deny, 

He has same sunset. 

He also wears denims,

But what all he receives is backlash. 

He must not be a traitor,

Can't say if he was a deceiver. 

But I have seen a sacrifice in his eyes, 

Maybe he was coerced by an invader. 

We heard he received a call few days back. 

Threatening him, losing his old mother. 

And, he never revealed the bandit's identity,     

Taking all the blame and accepted death penalty. 

His mother was receiving the societal tantrum,

But she didn't lose trust in her son's chauvinism. 

She remember him as the boy from a diverse backstreet, 

Saved the temple, and rewarded for his bravery and secularism. 

None believed her, but the mother had a strong faith, 

None knew his story, but now they regret of their constant scaith. 

That night she left her last note, telling all the stories about his boy, 

This unfair society, has my believe in humanity destroyed... 

@BrownRadha