Man lives with hope,
And dies with hope,
Hope is a thing,
For all the wings.
Pain and pleasure,
Dotting phases of leisure,
Some are born to smile and enjoy,
Others with miseries and die like toys.
Hope is a deceiver and racist,
In thy world apartheid exists,
It is false and hollow,
Few smiles but many dies like flies,
World is a big crematorium,
Here mind and heart cease to work.
Where every body struggles for hope,
But majority perishes unblessed.
Parched lips and hollow belly,
Leave no space to lay in peace.
Death embraces them before date,
Uncared, unloved and unwanted.
O! Almighty God, bring out the funeral,
Of racism, quota, and reservation.
Bless all with merit,
And fulfill the dying Hope.
DR. Yogesh SHARMA
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem