The value of value
|Photo credit: Deviantart / Look But Don't Touch|
I wonder why, value dies, with each generation,
No reason why children cry, get unwanted attention.
I look back to the olden days; me as a child wanted to play
with the ever beautiful doll they say-
Barbie; owned by all my friends and foe,
Lot of other dolls I had though,
But eyes were set at all shop windows,
who sold them amidst cars, game sets and bows.
Never did I make an evident say,
But eagerness in eyes grew day by day.
Lucky me! Was finally answered once after meal,
Parents who saw the desire made a fair deal:
Succeed and reach to the top, they made this plea,
The Barbie is only then yours, nothing comes for free!
No! if you think- it’s wrong they did,
I wouldn’t have thought any other being a kid.
I knew they could easily get me one
‘coz my wanting was when I had other dolls; nine!
But now I know, they were so right,
For what I wanted, with my own-self, I had to fight!
Several times did I excel, but pinnacle never did I see;
I grew up with time and the Barbie dream died within me,
When job, love and life took priorities and were always on my head,
On a birthday morning I woke up to find a huge packet on my bed,
With faces that had smiles stood parents besides and tears on my cheeks, roll
The fighter daughter, who had finally “earned” her most desired beautiful doll!
What thought I wish to convey, to this generation kids it'll not be clear,
Unless parents take efforts and pay to their surplus demands, a deaf ear!