I stood straight
Legs were one foot wide
Fingers were one inch apart
Suddenly, I threw my hands up.
They might be racist
They might be fascist
I was in front of them
And asked them to kill me first.
They shouted at me but I shouted louder
They went away from me out of fear
I knew each and every one of them but a coward
They always move and come in crowd
So I thundered alone like a lightening cloud.
To every one it became well known
If they could not kill me alone
So I sat down to ponder and wondered!
How could they dare to kill the crowd?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.