Monday, March 23, 2009

Another story in oblivion

Cradled is her child in her arms

His shrieks of pain fill the air

Yet she soothes, her face so calm

His teeth chatter incessantly.

He holds onto her tight, crying

While she caresses his forehead lightly

Why cant they hear us mama?

He sobs into her ears, shivering

It’s a world filled with deceit, drama.

They have in their ears my son

Words they utter of selves

Make-believe, fake, true to them are none.

They have around their eyes tied

Veils black, concealed, the truth is so

Their tongues gone black see son, for all they have lied

They cant hear apart from their own chatter

A lisp, a whimper. Laugh so raunchily

Do they, they hear us not, a distant seeming clatter.

Their own words cloud their mind

Too fogged to register any other say

Oblivious are they, known to them their own kind

What do they know of love,

Care, and sacrifice? They think they have it all

Ignorant they walk, heads held high above.

The child soothed, falls asleep in her arms

The mother sits awake, in the cold.

The bus-station stands now empty, a sound of a distant alarm.

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