Numbers Are Cruel.. Poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi

behind my back it thunders every evening,
as tropical clime thirsty since mid morning,
sometimes lightening run through towers,
mother earth has bath with her offspring

early morning Sun not ashamed of nakedness,
light up and peep through drawn curtains,
Kids waiting for school buses not around,
mad rush hours of human gone to hide.

all things not be done through fingering,
of key boards; Let those days of cheating,
end, when nerds played with numbers in life,
when cries exploded, ears of human will bot be deaf

when tears roll down on street of numbers,
a few thirsty human rejoice in numberless blood.