The Gift Poem by Sankha Datta
The Gift
That yellow grass
That black soil
That worthless work
And hard toil
That burning tree
That dead sparrow
That red sky
And broken arrow
That lake of acid
That smoky air
That cold heart
And dried tear
These are the gifts
We’re gonna give,
The tomorrow
We have never seen
The generation
Which next to come
The gifts are
For them I mean
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4/23/2024 6:35:07 AM # 1.0.0.1119
