I am an Aam Aadmi: A stamped
“common man” poor voter.
No sword, but with a seal
Without zeal -I move-
To execute my will;
As if climbing a tedious hill
Sweating in the Global warmth
I move…”move” a police man stared.
The king of the day of voting –I -
I loomed around the symbols,
To mourn the next dawn as King Lear
To wash cheeks with tears
on the way to the Old Age Home: my tomb
An womb where I would dream
Watching the vandalism of my unruly
Westernized children: homosexuals-
Homo-sapiens-their drunken dance –
Helpless and hopeless I glide,
Glide in to indecision again.
My Lord! My Lord! The load of my sins
Spins on me as grains grinding machine.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem