Took my notepad and my Bluetooth speaker, 

I went to hang around the polluted street east of my township.

I shall not reveal the name of the street, 

But I will tell you a little about the street.

I observed. I took out my notepad, 

I started writing about the polluted street.

Too much noise and too much smell, yet they live.

Potholes are unavoidable, yet cars move, 

Everybody sees everybody; worry not!

Big scream by the corner; it’s a robbery, 

Everyone saw the robbery, yet nobody reacted.

They are united in their households but divided on the street.

They pray together but not walk together.

The nasty smell coming from the nearby dumping site, but nobody cares. 

A high unemployment rate is just a norm, 

poverty is taking it’s toll; it’s every man for himself.

I see people walking but not moving anywhere, 

I see goal-oriented people but not action-oriented ones.

I see kids running to school, but educated not!

I’m not trolling the street, but I’m rolling out the story of the polluted street.

Not many can be dreamers in a slum, this street advocate.

The street is polluted, people are divided, 

I stood up, left with tearful eyes and wishful thinking, 

I wish I had all the power to change things around this street.

I wish I had all the powers to turn their dreams into reality .

I wish I had the power to turn dreamless ones into dreamers.