Red & White
Standing under the hot Sun,
he shouted slogans.
Displayed his sunken belly
and spilled tears.
Wiped and whipped his sweat
and swore on his blood.
That' s all sometime ago
When he was in reds!
Now he turned to all-whites
His khaddar full hands shirt
struggles to hide his pot-belly...
He doesn't remember
when he last did sweat
His air-conditioners are working well.
Now he doesn't shout
But sometimes sobbing in deep sleep...
mumbles his old slogans.
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Comments about this poem (Red & White by sathya narayana )
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