People are fueling rockets nowadays.
They are chasing ghosts of Mars,
yet my villagers have only a nominal hospital and no good doctors.
I too dream about the exotic grasslands of alien stars
though there is no school for my autistic brothers.
Spaceships hold a fascination for me,
but I also have the fear of atomic annihilation.
I also suffer from racist abomination.
Wings of a butterfly are always fascinating to me
though my feet are deeply rooted in the mire of an infected shore,
and a polluted sea lies before me.
May 30, 2018
May 30, 2018 at 2:45 AM UTC
People are fueling rockets nowadays.
They are chasing ghosts of Mars,
yet my villagers have only a nominal hospital and no good doctors.
I too dream about the exotic grasslands of alien stars
though there is no school for my autistic brothers.
Spaceships hold a fascination for me,
but I also have the fear of atomic annihilation.
I also suffer from racist abomination.
Wings of a butterfly are always fascinating to me
though my feet are deeply rooted in the mire of an infected shore,
and a polluted sea lies before me.
Request permission to use this poem