I saw a watchman, snaking along.
I was at my window, he crossed the road alone.
He came out of the wine shop, just below my house,
Meandering and sozzled of the local scorn,
The virgins in my locality, shouted in misery,
Who will protect us from puncturing our litany?
I shouted back, in stone silence,
He was not drunk, he was limp and shrunk,
His leg was eaten by the empathy of India
Many a young people die and live of polio and stigma.
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Comments about this poem (Watchman by Hardik Vaidya )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley
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