As the morning,
fresh with its dewdrops,
and twitter of birds,
awakens man to another day,
hundreds die on
the roads.
As we rub our eyes,
and awake to a life
full of dreams and hope;
Hundreds sit dazed
with their eyes wide open to reality.
As we enjoy the extravaganza
of food and delicacies,
relishing our taste buds;
Millions of children die,
die out of pain and hunger.
As we shed clothes
to shed our inhibition;
Celebrate nudity,
as a sign of modernisation,
Look down upon ‘them’ as ‘nude rascals’.
As I write these lines
in the cool confines of my room,
slums are being burnt down,
modesty is being outraged;
hundreds die a blistering death.
***
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