Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Not even a crow should know
what now in you I confide
turning his voice too low
he drew him closer to his side.

The listener strained his ears hard
nodded his head in assent
he wouldn't divulge one word
of the secret shared that moment.

Soon his face started showing crease
his belly bulged like balloon
he started feeling ill at ease
the burden was no boon.

He told his wife *what now I say
not be passed to another ear
mustn't see the light of day
keep to yourself only my dear.


The secret did her badly tease
made her silent morose
she couldn't breathe without release
must tell someone her close.

The secret spread like forest fire
were talking too many men
winds breathed it in the air
sun shone on it poured rain!
a small man dies somewhere
he doesn't make news
they are no news
herds of small men dying everyday.

big men only capture the headlines
big politicians big deceivers
no petty thieves or pickpockets
but swindlers of nations

you are awed by the headlines
the big bold letters
big disasters mishaps
genocide mass extinction

and may miss in one corner
a news of a man of no imprint
a small man's death in small print

an ill-paid half starved courier
his head crushed by a brick somewhere
not a thief nor a beggar
but looking forever
an address to deliver
going from door to door
with his back breaking loads
on alien bylanes and roads
where someone suspecting him a thief
broke his head with a brick


the small man in his death
made it to the news
only if you noticed it
from under big prints.

— The End —