What Is Peace? Poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
What Is Peace?
What a place it is,
People feel the peace,
The whole body is inflamed,
Keel joints are jammed,
Cellophane tapes have the knots,
Hard to move the pulleys with peace,
Balls and sockets are displaced,
The spare parts grow in the stem labs,
Cushions are everywhere to pad,
People are unaware of the fire,
In each and every cell of their personal prison,
They celebrate their acquired peace,
From the hard repetitive works,
Fuel with trans fat and sugar from the shelves,
Gulping of pills after every meal,
Let the peace of having long life be the real,
Holding their chest, coughing nonstop,
Sitting in the wheel chairs, immobile,
Enter and exit though the insurance door,
Let these peaceful people happily be adored,
They are the guinea pigs to be researched.
inflammation is the real reason for many of the chronic diseases among human. when there is a small scratch on our skin, we take so much effort to get it treated with out knowing same kinds of bruises and attack may occur in every part of our body, due to our life style and eating habits..Let us take care of our health to have the real peace..
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/16/2024 12:04:09 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Rachael Nicol, not only in America, everywhere in the world, where people have the access to money, power and comfort end like this. In India we have millions of super rich people among our 300 million rich and middle class people here in India and they face the same problems as written in this poem. Thank you for the comment, dear Rachael..