The Dead Mill Poem by Anil Kumar Panda

There is this dead mill
Sitting on the bank of a river
Since, they say, one hundred
And twenty years to be exact;

It is closed now.
The workers have gone back
To their native villages or towns;
To open tea stalls or grocery stores;
As there is no job available as
Recession is going on and there
Is no hope for the economy to
Get a boost; many Politian have
Fled with country's money to
Settle in rich countries to love
Their children and wives there;

A few days ago the tallest chimney
They have ever seen and that has
Bellowed smoke like a railway engine
Fell down like a tree chopped;
It killed two men, four cows and
A dog under its weight; no one cared;
As there is no money for burial;

They say, as they often say, when
In good mood that the mill would
Be opened and old workers would
Be called back to take up their jobs;
There would be no beggars and
Mourners; old quarters would be
Repaired to stop leaking in rain;
We know it is election time now.