Just a thought!
by Shwetha Srinivasan
(Salem, Tamil Nadu)
The ocean silent, rumbling or cursed
The harbor docked to its capacity
The kites flying undisturbed or destroyed
The setting sun or its rise;
The city asleep or awakened
The poor’s relentless search for peace
While the rich struggle for some,
Despite living a life of ease;
The men that toil harder
The men that sleep their way to the bells;
Innocent children in a brawl,
For a penny extra or some grain
The old don’t escape this misery
The miserly look over,
The shambles of their struggle tread upon,
In the poor’s relentless search for peace
The rich struggle for some,
Despite living a life of ease.
The constant birth and death cycle
Time of life, a prediction?
Its value failing, falling
Like the knock out of a tree in a storm;
Nature walks by, like a visitor in a museum
The rich, the poor, the never-ending era
The old, the miserly, the painful era
Birth, death, the peaceful era
Humans, fit for a monkey’s chatter
Distinguish, discard, and discriminate for
Life whose value blooms and fades
Like the tick of the clock, drop of rain
Empty handed we enter, empty handed we leave
Into the same path taken by all
We stop to fight, not to muse
We shout to instigate, not to unite
Alas we are all buried or burnt
To the soul call, a call from above!
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