Confession Cube Poem by Sumit Ganguly

When a car hits a man
and is flown away,
I witness as a tree,
victim's day is a turbulent sea but mine- a ditch.

When gunmen cause mass massacre,
there's blast, smoke blood and wailing.
I live as a gecko in closed door flat,
my conscience rests as window pane.

Hospitals need blood, I'm busy with me
church needs repair, I'm blind.
When my turn comes to bear a pain
I expect the world by me.


13th Oct 2016