My tears dry right beside,
As I cuddle by your side,
Mother you look hurt and your eyes pale,
But what help could i avail?
Your veined streets are rusted with waste,
Devalued eyes corrupt your taste.
Your system works with lazy tones,
Tyranny sickens your hollow bones.
Poverty is hard to cure,
The experts said, but I was sure.
We could have pulled out a away,
Rather than watch you decay.
Ignorance got the best of us,
Forgetting its just us we cuss.
Brothers, too different from the other,
Forgot that we shared our mother.
Your loving heart still talks to me,
Lamenting out a generous plea,
That all of us could join to be,
An everlasting bond of Unity.
Metanoic brothers and dellused few,
Glorify the cause of eschew,
Selfish whims and parasitic thoughts,
Shade the hopes of worthy lots.
Diverse you taught, and hatred we learnt,
Whenever we fought, our mother burnt.
Change is not so hard to get,
And a lot less harsh than late regret.
Your flag draws eyes, just for a day,
And we grin at your cries everyday,
Whom could we blame for our mother's death?
Our own soul? Or old mother's breath?
YOU ARE READING
Poetree
PoesíaA 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. :)
