How sorry I feel
For not keeping my promise
That I made with
A great zeal
For I could not dare break
The wall of
Customs and traditions
Which is being fed
For generations
The wall
That is so high and tall
Made up of
The cement of hate
Water of envy
Bricks of breed
And soil of creed
My so many generations
Sacrificed their emotions
To feed this wall
With every fall
It has become more tall
Even the powerful
Bulldozer of education
Failed to stop
Its painful erection
It feeds on
The blood of emotion
Of innocent creatures
And loudly laughs
On its own
Dreadful features
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem