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 Nov 2020
Clare
Today,
They create their own truths
Where peace is possible
Through weapons and wars
And sacrifices of the young...
You take pride in it.

They promise a better life
Is in cities and highrises
The price of which is future
And half your lives...
You join the line in silence.

They pick on the weak
With no paper proof
To show that they belong
And must to be heard too...
You fail to hear them.

They make you believe
You belong to a country
That is in dire need
So you ought to pay the fees...
You rush to fill those pockets.

Tomorrow,
You will be the Other
No name, nowhere to hide
They will put you as the price
So that the rest may live by
They will tighten your noose...

And the world will watch.
 Apr 2014
Clare
They whine and cry-
"This country is going to the dogs."
They complaint and protest-
"Down with this corrupt government."
They crib and blame-
"Pull down those lazy thieving *******."

But when it's time, on Election day
They take the day off, they holiday
The Whining Losers, they say -
"Ah, let a few Morons go and vote
I am above politics,
What matter's it to me."

Dare you not raise another finger,
Dare you not whine and complaint.
You're not a part of democracy.
You're what this country bears in vain.
 Apr 2014
Clare
The line of vehicles never end
I wonder where they're off to
All speeding, occasionally screeching
furiously honking and shouting,
I wonder where they are off to.
They come in all colours,
they go away in darkness
I sit by the window day after day
Wondering where they go off to.
 Mar 2014
Clare
It will soon be morning
Amma walks the backyard
Collecting flowers
The best for the Goddess
Who does nothing but sit
At her ivory throne
Sweets and diyas around
Her face with a pasted smile
I have so wished to wipe out.

Appa's snore shake the walls
I imagine his moustache
Shivering under the onslaught
Before he's off to the stores
He would want his breakfast
With Anna on his right side
Telling Appa all about school
And his stagnant progress
While Appa nods and laughs.

And after they would leave
I will then open my books
Where wonders of world hide...
Till then, I make breakfast.

— The End —