Report Spam - Poem by Rohan Sen
'...many copies of the same message, in an attempt to force the message on people who would not otherwise choose to receive...'
At the edge of the tower,
feet along the ledge, forlorn,
living, though no signs of life,
thoughts pushed into my head,
memories that haunt me in my bed,
Walk back or walk on?
Selling my soul to hunger,
selling my flesh to the city,
dying with every wound to my womb,
I stay awake unafraid of the tomb,
with razor in my hand, in doubt,
Cut. Or cut it out?
One pill a day to ease the pain,
one pill to circumnavigate my blood,
one to beat my heart till I part,
one pill to make me smile,
age makes me forget, once in a while..
and rough hands around me
force the medication scornfully,
How about a handful of them?
Swallow or pitiful wallow?
Two kids with no future,
Wife courageously dressed in tatters,
hopes raise and fall, survival, that's all I crave...
send my kids to school or save them in a grave?
With rat-kill paused above our meal for the day,
pour out or simply pour away?
Mixed messages all...
Live today for a timely death,
Buy today and pay tomorrow,
Give and you shall receive deduction,
Life plays its cards, a crass seduction...
Lining the floors of the mega-cities,
are the ones who screamed 'murder',
keeping them enthused, blissfully confused,
the city stalled their soulful reporting. Talk no further.
Comments about Report Spam by Rohan Sen
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye