Ode to a child
As a child every thought I fought,
Skipped happiness hopes we bought;
Sold in the bazaars that mint leaders,
We fought for our rivers,
There is a land lined with sand,
With diminishing physics and shaky hand;
We still bathed in the rain,
Engulfed in slow emitting pain,
As a man every thought I fought,
Your today – yesterday they wrote,
The tombstone lined – someone’s hope,
One more soldier bite the dust and another rode,
Country man plundered for your growth;
Today when you rest in peace,
Unrest in the street!
Your kind – different breed;
How do you free freedom?
Freedom redefined – surging storm;
Hurricane, typhoon – this place has grown.
Write me off!
Ride the storm,
Collective hallucinations making society strong;
Thorn in the throne,
Few rights and many wrong,
This is where we belong;
The Child is growing, still young!
Is this the end of a feebly written song?