A Corolla came speeding, half asleep,
Right on pavement— a family's sole home
Under the sky's wide open dome,
And killed a few right in their sleep.
There was much that the media said
On the pitfalls of partying,
Of too much drinking,
As on drunken driving,
On dangers of heedless speeding,
But li'le was said in victim's aid.
In today's times truth is a helpless maid,
Not fair that flies on legal wings.
And much was said and argued
In favour and against,
But justice is a maid so prude
That truth must be red-handed best.
So after much was said,
The issue was threadbare laid,
When all that came went home,
Few thought of the hapless few
Sleeping under open dome,
And none alas had a clue.
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Happenings | 02.11.06 |
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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