Why do my feet halt
Every time I'm alone?
Looking around my back
Hoping I'm not being followed.
I am told often so boldly
To stop fearing fear,
But is it my fault really
If things around are not dear?
They find new reasons
To pin upon me the blame,
Sometimes my clothes it is,
Sometimes my name.
Used as a discardable pawn
In games I don't belong in,
Is that who I am at the end of the day -
An object to be oggled akin?
The story of a country
Reflecting thousands in others,
For every one that comes out
A thousand more die further.
In the feuds of countries,
It's the innocent always on buffer,
But in the feuds of fiends
Since when did the innocence of children suffer?
A four-year old infant
Caught in the world of war,
Unaware about the ghastly horrors
She had to face all alone now.
An eight-year old child
So happy in her innocent region,
What was her fault really
That she belonged to a different religion?
A twelve-year old girl
Who stood for her right of education,
Was it really that simple to stand there
And attempt in a bus an assassination?
A seventeen-year old survivor,
The witness to the deaths of her friends,
Because a maniac chose to gun everyone down,
While she just happened to be there.
A twenty-three year old woman
Working towards her dreams so tall,
Sitting upon the wrong bus one night-
Was her mistake that big to take the fall?
The tales could go on and on
About hundreds of thousands of unnamed souls,
All finding her way into this world,
Yet meeting her end at the hands of inhumane ghouls.
So easily cast aside are such instances
Deemed as sad and unfortune daily,
Yet why can we do nothing more
But watch them happen quietly?
Pushed aside in the name of religion
While shrouding culprits in cloaks of politics,
How easy it is to just say
That the world is all about semantics!
We march and light candles,
Pouring our anger out through words,
If the pen was mightier than the sword,
Why then are our actions so blurred?
Today as I stand here,
I see not just the child of a country,
It is the humanity of the world that's challenged
At the hands of several many.
If you still ask me after all this
Why my feet halt everytime I'm alone here,
The day I am assured of humanity
Will be when I'll finally stop fearing fear.
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PoetryPO1 || ❝To feel is only but to know what lies within, flowing through the depths of your heart and soul.❞ First poetry book in the From My Heart To Yours set. Original poems written on things that we all go through or live through at some point in t...
