Back To Bed

In the wee hour of the day When I come to see the world With the cool breeze and flowers Swaying spilling fragrance I feel The day will be spent in a happy mood Till I found the morning paper Laying sprawled on the stair gaping At me as if getting raped and shocked Mud at its frayed edges stuck like saliva Of merciless rapists at it is thrown from the gate Nothing new. News are repeated. A girl was raped in a lonely street in The afternoon- passers-by looked at As if a movie was going on. Some whistled At the boys who are so energetic and experienced Blind man crushed to death under The wheels of a fast moving truck. His Flesh is stuck on the pillar made in memory Of the martyrs of independent struggle. Blood Licked off by mad dogs from the pavement. Same Experience same awful reading to make you feel low It is better not to go out and go under the blanket Sleep takes you far away from the reality I have no heart to face