Hardik Vaidya (26 Dec 1969, yet to kick the bucket. / Mahuva, Gujarat, India.)
I see two workmen,
Welding at a height.
They must be at least 7 floors high.
Wearing but a orange hard hat,
That too I am thankful and glad.
No harness, no other safety device to hold them from a fall,
Which eventually will kill them and widow their pretty wives at home.
I wish amongst the million deities we worship,
We add one more called safety,
Even that will not do the trick,
As we have the habit to pay lip service,
Hold God responsible, and dismiss.
Comments about this poem (Safety by Hardik Vaidya )
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