scapegoat

THEY talked about heaven and glory
and all things after death
robbed you off your sweet childhood
filled your heart with poison
now you lie in an un-named grave
in a foreign land
not a single tear drop was shed
on that cold dump of dust
no hand placed a rose,
or even a bunch of wild flowerr
THEY are busy
in creating the next scapegoat
i wonder if you could talk
from inside your grave
what would you have told
to all those wannabe scapegoats.

sharmishtha basu

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8 comments

  1. good work, I like the opening two lines best

    and the question posed at the end is interesting too,
    it’s nice to end a poem on a question – it makes people think!

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