Mother sold him and he never knew a father;

Born adult, as though he never had a childhood.

He remembered the fading face of his mother,

Fragments from the early years of his life

As he smoked the last cigarette from the packet.

The memory is still vivid in his mind,

He could recall the lullaby that she hummed,

"Does it matter?"–the train of thoughts stopped at this,

He threw the empty packet of cigarettes and walked to work,

He wants to live the moment without a second thought.

Fahmida Sharmin is a contributor.