The last boy.
People came and went but nobody looked a glimpse towards me. I was standing beside the road in a square with a lot of opened shops. It was about sunrise and the daily routines of mankind was about to proceed. I was wearing a black torn jeans and a blue shirt with a title " hope is the thing with feathers ". I thought how would I be able to corelate myself to the busy schedule of these persons, how would I Became a normal person like the rest, how would I be a person to whom the people will give a smile and a confident look in the eye. But I have a hope.
The lost boy.
I don't remember anything about my childhood and where I was born and where I grew up, what is my real name, who are my parents and how I came here. These were the questions that startled me and even knowing that nobody can answer my questions. I hoped that someday I would be able to call certain people " my family " which no one considered me one. The people across would look at me as I was an alien and their scornful gazes makes me feel that I wasn't even a human being. They would think of me as a thief and a burglar. They cannot help me for I have no one as a guardian and a friend. But still there are certain people ( same in structure and manners) that help me so that I can live my twenty four hours as a lost boy.
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