Insufficiency holds sway, Dawn chauffeurs meagre segments, In this ambience, the children play, Anticipating their paltry fragments. Homes wear a sombre look, Nothing delightful to cook, The furniture is worn out and spent, Dilapidated and bent. Vacation is too much of a luxury, Hands are dutiful in domestic drudgery, Children wear undersized and patched attire, At nightfall, with these, they retire. Opulence is seen as an illusion, A treasure hidden in the deep, Out of reach until they go to sleep, Away from the world of seclusion. First Place Podium Finish on Poetry Soup.