Bomb Blast Poem by Nikhil Parekh

The kids somersaulted on the carpet green grass,
digging holes in fresh mud with plastic spade,
Whirling flying saucers that went whizzing past the blueberry tree,
Yelling at full capacity of lung whilst playing games of red Indian.
The housewife bustled through interiors of the kitchen,
Singing favorite notes of Egyptian music,
Chopping pieces of meat with immaculate ease,
Dispatching rotten eggs to safe enclosures of the dustbin,
Preparing appetizing meals of corn with slices of cold meat.
He had reason to be a proud man,
Years of strife before he climbed the ladders of success,
Now bestowed with a blissful little family,
He paced through corridors of the large balcony with the newly born child in his
arms.
All seemed to be going well,
He seemed to have struck a balance between work and perennial fortune,
Before he attended the shrill ringing of the punch button telephone,
A hoarse voice croaked, then burst into guffaws of laughter,
Informing him of death fast approaching,
As several bombs were activated in the red sedan,
Which now sped out of the driveway, carrying his twin children and wife.
He ran like never before, screamed at the top of his nerve wrecked voice,
Tall legs transporting him outside in flash seconds of time,
But for once destiny had played a cruel joke,
There occurred an earth shattering explosion,
Amber balls of fire emanated with smoke,
Pieces of car seat plummeted high in the sky,
The car spun several revolutions before settling on the ground,
He ran to the scene with premature tears welling up his eyes,
To witness the carcass of his family,
Triggered by the brutally inhuman Bomb blast