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



  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!

Thanks for your comment, please leave your URL to allow me the pleasure of visiting your blog

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s