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Efa Nuryani Jun 23
Generating noises and worries
In a moment of recess while restless

There, heaves in sight of a wish
to have some sort of magic
spells to make your pain and sufferings vanish
We walked 500 kilometres,
We are not marathon runners,
We ran only for food and family.

The walk was long,
But our minds were strong,
Hunger came along.

Hunger put us to faint;
Public watched us like saint,
We were treated as a quaint.

The going got tough;
Our foot became rough,
We felt the tiring walk was enough.

Tears poured in our heart,
Disease ripped the whole world apart,
But humankind was selfish and smart.

Public and rulers slept,
We remained helpless and wept,
Banks disturbed us with debt.

Fishes in the sea cry,
The eaters put it to fry,
Our hunger cries were buried,
Towards our homes we hurried.

Frogs rested in the shadow of a snake,
Hunger tested us during this corona quake.

Corona turned a manhunt tiger,
Killed us with its sharp tooth of hunger,
Our hearts filled with demonic anger,
Hunger kept disturbing us longer.

Our corpses were a useless exhibition,
Media wolves framed our deaths a suicide,
We had no place to reside,
Train tracks became our new home inside.

Our hunger and pains remain unheard
Ruthless rulers find our sufferings awkward

Our hunger creates leaders and robbers,
Rulers filled our society with backstabbers,
We will emerge as leaders and food feeders,
The globe will become our followers and readers.

To all living beings we will feed,
To our future generations we will become a seed,
If hunger kills a human like a crop-killing ****,
Our hands will destroy the humanimals with greed.
Coronavirus had put the globe to a halt. Migrant laborers are the biggest victims who are battling corona and hunger together. Their voices are unheard. My poems always want to be a voice of the voiceless in the globe. Migrant labor population work for their family leading the worst life. But there was no helping hand for many migrant laborers. The house owners evacuated them and asked them to suddenly leave their homes. The migrant laborers have to make long walks towards their hometowns as they had no transportation, food or accommodation. The rulers in so-called developing countries like India left migrant laborers to walk long kilometers to reach their homes. No facility was properly made and the whole country stood silently to witness their sufferings, as they had to make a long tiring walk for around or more than 500 kilometres. Many of them could not battle their hunger and thirst.
Skye Nov 2018
" maybe the night, holds a little hope for us " he sang.
and i cringed at the thought of ever giving you another chance.
another chance to bring me pain and sufferings,
another chance to see the smiles that brought miseries to my days.
should i?
Hell with Manu! Manu go to hell!
The wrath of your interpretation,
Put us under an inhuman subjugation.

You turned a group,
Dictators of a merciless culture,
Transformed us worse,
Than a scavenging vulture.

You gifted us the psychology of the worst slaves,
And robbed our culture, worship and God,
Who is there to get us out from these graves?

For centuries till now continue our struggle,
We are forced to live with worst strangles
In the poisonous jungle,

We the humans treated much worse,
Than dogs insects and poo eating pig,
Our scars wounds and blows,
Still remain untouchable and big.

Poisonous **** declared the crops untouchable,
Proclaimed itself the most unconquerable,
Less than a second it takes,
To **** the poisonous weeds with a cutter,
Throw them into the useless gutter.

Landlords, who rule the land and hill,
Put the lives of untouchable crops to a standstill,
Multiplied the existence of poisonous ****,
At the expense of the healthy crop seed.

Our journey in the doors of
Movements, struggle and legal
Was quite a win,
That proved out to be absolutely lethal.

We won successfully in the battle of right,
Till the end of the topmost administrative fight,
We lost to erase your caste ridden thought,
That is useless rigid and tight.

With your caste names,
You remind and hurt us, with useless exhibition
In hearts, we created die hard flames,
To take up the long term ambitions,
And get us out from these addicted inhibitions.

From mother's womb to a cemetery,
We have a same human life,
But when it comes to temple sanctum,
You **** us with a political double edged knife.

We built the temples,
You played a gamble and created troubles,
Pushed us to convert,
Got our identities to subvert.

World belongs to everyone,
Our life does not hold value.

Nature belongs to everyone,
We do not have access to water by Vedas virtue.

God is equal to everyone,
But we are restricted entry, as an oppressed queue.

There is no use to argue,
Of course it is untrue,
Let's put ourselves to the rescue.

What's next? What's next?
Let's create a new humanity societal text,
Let's create for ourselves new religions,
Let's begin to reach out to the next generation,
Work with them to build new revolution.

Let's create a new religion,
In nooks and corners, all areas, rural and urban,
That treats humans as humans,
And give life to the humanity slogan.

Change the rules! Yeah change the rules!
Throw into gutters all these useless fools,
For human lives, there can be nothing to tally,
Human life remains invaluable and holy

Being human is my true breed,
Crows and cuckoo belong to our creed,
Mountains and sea belong to our human group
Be proud, you will belong to this peaceful troop.

Let us get up, where we fell
And put this curse to the hell.
India suffers from the world's toughest disease named caste and untouchability. When we rewind through the history, we can understand that Manu’s interpretation of Veda, as Manu dharma created the evil ground for castes to hit its foundation strong. The person from the oppressed and suppressed class sings the poem. In the midst of the poem, the poisonous weeds are those inflicted with caste ridden superior thinking. Landlords are the rulers of the land or present politicians in India. Healthy crops are the oppressed class. Till today the pain of those in the oppressed classes had been unremoved. Caste ridden superior thinking is a psychological thought instilled through generations. From drinking water to honor killings, caste has taken its never reached big form. It's time we respond to it and work towards creating a world without any discrimination. I dedicate this poem to all caste warriors in India like Dr B.R Ambedkar, Bharathiyar, and Periyar, Jyotibhai phoole, vallalaar, vaikundar, and Rettamalai srinivasan and ayoddhidhasa pandith. It's time we reach out to the next generations and first teach them to treat humans as humans. It's time India wakes up to this human crisis.
Xaela San Jul 2018
I see pain in the child's eyes
Screaming silently with his mind
As he close his mouth containing his sorrow;

In his back, he carries his dead brother
Traveling miles from the danger of men and guns
Running away with little energy for the sake of safety

Looking at him
A river of sorrow flows in him;

With a gentle kiss of goodbye, a lifeless body descended
To the soil resting from the agonizing war

Through so much sorrow overwhelming his soul
This child's legs collapsed and touched the ground
Where river of tears never fell
But only blood from his lips dripped down

He bit his tongue to ease the unbearable pain within
As he stare blankly to the soil not minding the taste of blood
For he knew, his brother's body is now one with the Earth;

Then with little determination
He left, in his head held up
And with the sorrow of lost in his heart.
pk tunuri Jul 2018
Dear Reader,
Ever lost a loved one?
As a poet, I feel death must be a celebration.
The end of all the earthly sufferings, Right?
Have you ever felt happy for those who died!

We all die one day
Everyone we love will disappear in the same way
We humans, don't train ourselves, let's say
On how to deal with the death's play

Erase all the love, the memories before dawn
So that it won't hurt when they're really gone

Is that even possible for us to do?
Death is so painful & sad, yes it's true,
Even we can't escape from it, it's nothing new!
Death will beat us black and blue.

Cry and cry
Wish your loved one, a goodbye
Tell them, you'll see them when you die
Ask them to shine like a star in the sky

Cry, till the tears left for them are none
So that it won't hurt you in the long run
YH Sep 2017
Sure, it may be like death;
this agonizing, vicious pain.
But you can decide to end it in two particular ways;
either you allow the torment to destroy you merciless,
or shape you into a person deadlier than before.

There is a probability where you might succumb to madness,
but that is something inevitable.
Does it matter?
Madness favors you by casting a shadow over your own vulnerability.

Something more than you can ever ask for.

— Y.H.

delirium,
gentle fervor.
exploit your sufferings.

(c) Y.H.
You are in my eyes, you are in my mind
But where my love I lost let me try to find
Henceforth you are mine let me remind
It is miracle of love which makes us refined

I am all around you when you surround me
I am just a drop of water, you are a green sea
When we embrace in trance our souls feel free
Love is like a spring beauty is a humming bee

Let us be like birds let us borrow the wings
Let us play love tunes on real beauty strings
Please be more liberal understand my feelings
Life is a torture we have to take the sufferings

Col Muhammad Khalid Khan
Copyright 2016 Golden Glow
JM Ang Sep 2016
You're too cruel
I wish you'd just tell me
That you've grown to hate me
That I'm no longer worth your time
That I'd have to live without you
From now on
Instead of the sleepless nights I spend
Trying to figure out what I did
Trying to remember where things went wrong
Trying to understand why you left
Without a word

You're too cruel
How can you disappear
Without any goodbye?

You're too cruel
How can you leave me
Looking at the places we've been
Remembering the things we've seen
Listening to the songs we've loved
With an ever-growing hole inside

You're too cruel
Aren't you going to say goodbye?
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