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Pankaj Thakur Sep 2017
"Hawa sang chalna seekh gayi **,"
Thora pankh faila udna bhi seekh jaoge,
Jra azma ke deakh khud ko,
Zindgi ka matlab seekh jaoge.
Khush hoon jaan ke tum logon ko,
Padna seekh gyi **...

Thodi himmat rakh ,
Honsle ke kami nahi tujh me,
Sar utha ke chala kro,
Tumhe darna nahi kisi se..

Tum bholi si nanhi si,
Payari si thi,
Mma papa ki gudiya dulari si thi,
Ankhon main anshoo a jate unki,
Jab tum rote rote so jaati,
Unki ladli payari si tum...

Na jaane kab unki gudiya badi ** gayi,
Unhe pata bhi na chala,
Jiin hathon main kheli  unhi se
vida ** ke chal bhi bdi...

Kya hi zindgi tumhe mili hai,
kuch pal rahi mma papa sang,
Begane aye tujhe le gye,
Tere mma papa ko anshoo de gye...

Hansti kehlti papa ke dil ka taara thi tum,
Kuch khelne ko na hota,
To papa ki peeth ki sawari thi tum...

Papa ki beti aaj badi ** gayi hai,
Kl thak jo roti lagti nanhi si,
Bechari si thi ,
Aaj mma ki vo ladli sayani ban gayi hai...

Gairon ko rehne de,
Papa ka sar na jhukana kabhi,
Bde laad payar se rakha hai tujhe,
kabhi rulana na unhe...

BEti tu lout ke jaldi aana
tera intazar rahega,
Teri maa royi to main sambhal lunga,
Par tere papa roye to.
tere siva koi chup karvane nahi ayega...
Patrick Warner Apr 2020
No.  I do not care who you are.
I do not care if you are old or young.
I do not care about the colour of your skin, or hair,
The shade of your makeup.
The brand of clothes you wear.

I do not care if you run a country, or a pub,
Or a marathon, or sit at home and eat one,
And before you start, I don’t care if you’ve changed your name either.
You cannot escape.

I am fond of ***** digits, but I do not care
about the size of the digits in your electronic wealth representor,
nor their laundered state.

I do not care how many bullets you have,
I do not care how many friends you have.
If you know your neighbours well, or guard your castle gates,
It’s all the same to me.
Walls, fences, border guards are no barrier.

I do not care if you shelter from the storm
Under detached bricks or cardboard,
Though I dig the shade either way.
I do not care what class you think you are,
Or what class you really are.

I speak not.
I do not care what language you speak, or to which God you pray,
But your words, all your words, are beautiful to me.
They carry my babies across empty space to my imagined paradise.

If your heart beats, if you breathe.
I would like to live in you, with you.

I am no murderer.
If you die, I die.  
If you die, it’s a miscalculation.  
A slight administrative bureaucratic **** up.
It wasn’t me wot done it gov’.  
It was my so-called friends.
Leuk, Azma, Timex.  With friends like them…eh?
We are alike, you and I. because I hate them too
I am collateral.

But know this.  Last gasp of final breath,
From my house whistled roar like crashing economy.
Then silence like dying planet.
Then nothing.

I am better than you.  When I believe
That every human being on this planet,
Regardless of their external appearance
Or myriad individual imperfections,
Is beautiful to me on the inside.
I speak pure, unadulterated, unchallengeable, truth.
How many of you can say that?

I am not racist.
How many of you can truly put hand on heart
And say that.

I do not love you.
I cannot love.
But I need your love for each other.
I need your need to love, to touch, to kiss.
I need your need to stand together, to stand close.

I do not care who you are.

My only nightmare.
Each single one of you, infecting from compassion’s depths,
Coaxing two strangers to love one another
by moving apart.
Hi all - I don't write a lot of poetry but occasionally every year or two I am tempted to put pen to paper as it were.  This is something that I wrote whilst my partner was in hospital with Coronavirus and I was also suffering from the same illness.

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