The Blue Boy
I knew a little boy once who painted his face blue,
For he was born so different from me and you.
His face looked like just another in the crowd,
But his thoughts had their abode higher than the clouds.
Hidden behind the smoke, sunlight was hard to find
When the tanks used to march the deserted streets.
It was the year 1989 and thus not very kind,
For in some corner of the world, people still were colorblind.
Some places where sunlight shone just bright,
He danced and trotted and played around fearless.
While other childhoods of neighborhoods grew up with fright
The Blue Boy merely chose to see a different sight.
He sang as he walked, of the colors he could see,
For he wanted every soul to listen to his songs,
'The colorful flag fluttered with warmth and glee'.
Wind carried his songs to the world where people were living free.
The mother’s heart was frightened when she heard,
Her little boy was the 'Blue Boy' as they called him in the streets.
For it were still 1989 there and thus not at all kind
But the Blue Boy had a special question in mind.
When his mother caught him down there, he said,
'Why can’t I be blue Mamma? When I can see right?
Why do they need so many colors everywhere?
“If they want it to be just black and white?'
©Samik Bhattacharya 2012
©Samik Bhattacharya 2012
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