Fiction

That child was a beggar.
She was dying of hunger.
I didn’t have a morsel.
That kid was an angel.
I started to cook.
She was looking at a book.
Not that the little one knew to read.
Her eyes showed no greed.
She was a damsel in distress.
Tattered and torn was her dress.
I served her food.
She behaved very good.
I fell for her.
She was given a good shower.
Out came the most beautiful flower.
I hugged and kissed her.
That darling became my daughter.
Happy that she escaped begging’s slaughter.
‘Daughter’ was my longing.
This angel gave life a new meaning.
All thro’ the narration;
My kid was in full attention.
He always loved fiction.
All stories were a fragment of my imagination!
Little did the kid know?
This was my mind’s reality show!
The story was my longing’s expression.
A depiction of my unfulfilled desire’s manifestation!