Balloon

                                                         (Image Courtesy: http://balloonsandmoregifts.com)


He stood at the crossing,
Besides the old tea shop,
The white shirt tucked neatly,
And eyes that smiled mildly, hopefully.

Holding in his hands the specks of joys,
Inviting the rush of little girls and boys,
"I want the white one," "Red for me,"
Parents too joined the fun, often buying at a time three.

He used to be my favorite,
A childhood hero I suppose,
Waving the colors that circled over his shoulder,
Playing the part of the mystical Pied Piper.

The balloons rose high, higher,
Taller than the winds permitted,
They defied gravity, the laws of science,
They danced magically to the balloon-seller's rhymes.

Time has moved on, I have grown up,
So have the other kids in the neighborhood,
The crossing still exists,
Where elegantly stands our old balloon-hero.

His shoulders drooping with burden,
Perhaps they were now lighter than air,
The colors turned disobedient, cruel,
Refusing to rise up on his commands.

He looks patiently around, shouting as hard as he could,
Trying to attract the kids with his myriad gifts,
Hardly does he realize the changed pattern of the game,
Where playing with balloons appear just too lame.

Xbox and Playstations, consoles and computers,
Have become toys of the current generations,
"Why shall I be satisfied holding a balloon?
When 3D games can easily take me to the moon?"

Yet, he still stands at the crossing,
Besides the old tea shop,
The white shirt tucked neatly,
And eyes that smiled wearily, hopefully !!!



This Poem is written for One Single Impression and the Prompt is Balloon.