You Are The News! Poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi

When I go back home at eight of clock news,
The diaper less infants sleep on the breasts,
I am shocked and dumbfounded with our views,
Millions of our brothers and sisters on the streets,
Carrying the placards of ineffective messages,
Their sweats have no values, their breads are stale,
The men in the limousines with tinted windows and spectacles,
The men in the bus struggle to find a place to hold the straps,
The men in auto rickshaw feel so proud looking at those who walk,
The men in the wrong frame of mind occupy the parliament,
The women have the big mouth, but have no strong voice,
Watching the tricky back of their pitiful husbands,
The children are let loose on the playground,
Observing what the modern children do in their house,
The battle is going on and on every day and night,
The solutions are hard to solve the same problems,
That are being solved somewhere else,
The problems are the everyday issues with no clues,
My country men are very happy to live the life of strive,
Whenever I go back home at eight and ten o clock news,