The Dew Drop

On a joyous occasion
it fell from the heavens
Into a humble dwelling
Loving arms wrapped around.

It tried finding identity
Amidst countless chaos
There wasn't much to look
up-to, forward-to or beyond.

Some called it a menace
Others were weary
For itself, things weren't
any lesser dreary

A wanderer then picked it
And called it "Purpose"
Loved it, Cajoled it
And also gave it some.

With vibrant colours it shined
Sans one doubt slight
All one had to do
Was to hold it in light!

1. Every child born in this world is precious, it has a place in the world for it to claim. It is born to joyous celebrations.

2. In a humble premise, it struggles to find itself

3. Slowly it loses way and becomes a problem, a constant struggle building within it

4. In the hands of a teacher who takes it upon himself to make it feel useful to the world. The child became his purpose and it also gave the child a purpose.

5. After all, it was a person (as a dew drop) with countless abilities (colours). To see it's true potential you had to allow the light of knowledge and learning to pass through it.