A Dream Experience And Its Impressions Il

A child rides his three-wheeler. A big truck follows, Wraps the child And his three-wheeler In the front left wheel of the truck. From the back of the car window I watch helpless...not knowing If the child survived or not. The last thing I remember is his Smiling face experiencing the thrill ride On his three-wheeler. The dream breaks—- The fear, the anxiety The sadness persists. Being helpless is the worst thing in life. Back in past my little kids Have taken many a thrill rides On their three-wheeler, And I ran with them Or after them in the middle of the street To make sure the oncoming Traffic saw us. Fear never kept us away from Enjoying little things, And I never felt helpless. Though it was all God's grace That had let us live our lives Safe and secure. Now I sense an aura of fear All around, dealing with news Of young children, or of grownups Being shot by others At the slightest of provocation, Some time even without provocation, Be it by the hands of police, gang members Mentally sick or avengers. What troubles me most is the thought That the shooters too have lost Their sense of security. They have a weapon, yet the fear of having The other person a weapon makes Them shoot an unarmed person. In fear of death, one must put His own survival first- There is no denial of the fact, But can anybody perform The duty of protecting others With so much fear for their own life. And how can a citizen live his life Not knowing which of his action Would result in an altercation with authority Or other community members, How can one live with so much fear? How long can we ignore the demand That, give a gun in each hand Or take the guns away from all. How long can we ignore the distrust That nobody is protecting here anybody But their own selves. That jungle law still prevails in civil society. How long can we run away from our selves? When we have everything to fear And nothing to assure us.