Hardik Vaidya (26 Dec 1969, yet to kick the bucket. / Mahuva, Gujarat, India.)
Death of Nations and nationality.
I want to paint a nation.
I only see women.
Then I force my self and see some worthy men.
I put a gun to my temple and I see only a few humans.
I see their minds.
It is the turning point.
The acid has just been overwhelmed by the final drop of your alkali.
The colour changed.
Ideas, tongues, people, become nations.
Markets, oil, minerals, cattle, women became irrational.
I shiver what if the Internet goes.
How will I make love to your soul?
Poet's Notes about The Poem
There are no longer nations.
The people have dissolved all artificial questions.
Comments about this poem (Death of Nations and nationality. by Hardik Vaidya )
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