The deprived eyes saw their country free,
A dream they shared selflessly.
With no guns or sticks or stones,
An unarmed crowd of skinny bones.
Assembled at their predecided place,
To complain of their people's disgrace.
Unaware that even marching peacefully,
Was something to which Dyer wouldn't agree.
A crowd of thousands but the exit one,
They saw him come and load his gun;
The protesters saw and voices were raised,
But there that day, tyranny was displayed.
The reply came imbedded in shells,
The shots for them, was the devil's knells.
In minutes the garden was painted red,
Few hundreds injured and thousands dead.
The firing continued till they exhausted their stock,
Rained havoc on the butchered flock.
To escape the bullets many chose the well,
But were all crushed in that tunnel of hell.
Dyer was too proud of his work,
And mocked the corpses with his smirk.
The protest ended only to see,
The masterpiece of anarchy.
YOU ARE READING
Poetree
PoetryA compilation of poems on issues like human trafficking, war , racism etc. written by Shuvam Roy. I hope you read and enjoy it, please give it a try. :)
