|Joel Robinson Photography source|
The shy kid* who walked like a shadow
Was once a 13 year old groom
Butterflies never left his stomach yet his stony words
Hit his child wife in their room
The razor’s age he had trodden
Hacked and hardened his diffidence
The girmitias** held him in esteem
And some with nonchalance
Hail the change!
His easy way was bizarre to the worldly men
Hanging a smirk on their face
Eyesore that he was needed to get rid of fast
To save the man’s own race
God save the Man!
But the bullets targeted his chest to stop that beat
Of the simple man
Red birds flew up from his bosom into the void and his words
Were the silent sun
He is no more!
Mercenary killers still walk and I hear their footsteps
In channels and paper
The red birds from the remote past bring me the silent sun
And words dance and caper
Poets still live!
**girmitia was probably distorted form of ‘agreement’-workers who were hired from India to work as bonded laborers in South Africa. They were deprived of basic human rights. Gandhiji fought for them in SA.
Written for Susan’s Midweek Motif: Social Goods @ Poets United
Shared with d'Verse Poetics