The Crowd Poem by Ullas R Koya

The crowd is at haste
behind someone they hate.
Can't clearly make it out,
But audible is the shout.

'There runs the offender!
Keep hold on him!
Catch the lawbreaker!
Filling his belly to brim
snatch he did our share!
For the mankind, a shame,
Mugger, Gangster, Mobster, Swindler,
Get hold of him, the transgressor! '

A chaser got hold of the cheap.
Banged, kicked, hit into him deep.
With his face down, fell the thief.
On him fell the crowd, a heap.

Then the crowd made a seek,
'Let's see the crook's face! '
The stale was turned onto his back,
Confused, was the crowd's gaze.

They all whispered within,
Sans voice, to themselves,
'Isn't this face mine!
Or have we all got same faces! '