Poetry

I’m only you: Poem

I toil hard to rise above the ladder,
Days and nights, I fill with my sweat.
You take it easy and call it flexitime,
Exploiting me with no reason or rhyme.
I’m only you, born in the wrong place!

I study to salvage
My thirst for knowledge.
Your father pays a capitation fee
Only to artfully replace me.
I’m only you, born to the wrong people!

I love with all my heart
Appreciating true inner beauty.
You brand me a queer,
Stamp my love as unnatural.
I’m only you, born in the wrong body!

 

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Poetry

Dystopia: Poem

Scarred beyond recognition, to the detriment of the masses
The smooth sails are ruffled up by the unconquerable hail!
Any vision of utopia crashes down in the storm of destruction
as the dystopian reality renders a state devoid of hope.

Suffering. Pain. Devastation. Loss.
Strangled by the heavy ropes of turmoil.
A million divisions amidst the residents
of one global village.

Country. Colour. Gender. Caste.
Money- the supreme divisive plank.
Greed of the elite leads to many empty stomachs
While the rich man’s rat race leaves hearts empty.

Wars and the raging thirst for blood,
Brotherhood withers away like leaves of autumn..
Man’s upper hand suppresses the givers of birth,
The moneylender’s stand oppresses the feeders of the world.

Dystopia is viewed through a glass into the future,
Truth reflected in the mirrors of the present.
Awaken to the binding quagmire of devastation!

Oh no! Dystopia is not the fear of tomorrow
Today we live in a dystopian world,
Damaged beyond repair, with no hope for redemption!

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