Below poverty line,
a boy leads his life.
Poverty makes his dream colourless.
He don't know what is the colours of happiness.
Last night, i saw a poem lay down beside the dustbin.
Lay down beside a dog, wast product, beside the used napkine.
The poem don't know his identity.
Who is his creator?
When i reach at the landmark.
I see on my back.
Everybody take love from me.
I want to walk on this road again.
Let their be light.
How much light reach here?
Don't ask it.
God is busy now, with his dream.
Some man are like the sun.
They want to start a new day by removing darkness.
History of change,
The world history.
Few bullet stopped your voice.
The line of poem was born from this silentness.
Make a poem,
Immortal with revolution.
Some life stop their life on newspaper.
some life loss their life on newspaper.
loss their life like a photograph.
Loss their life in a column of newspaper.
I believe that,
love is blinde.
so their is no one,
in my heart.
I forget my prehistoric life.
I forget that my life depend on a knife.
I forget our god and goddeses.
I forget my love.
I get my freedom, i get my country.
For this freedom we gave a river of blood.
For this country we gave 30 lakhs life.
But we get a hope,