The Road
Herojit Philem *
I am a road
With many twist and turns
I walk with a goad
Like the little children enjoying the run
I am happy to feel the rain and the shine
As I join with the children in the race
My playmates with some strangers did dine
And planned to stone on my face
But wounds soon get healed
And myself I cannot remember
As with asphalt concreteme, they sealed
In June I melt into tear but I am fine in December.
Deep inside sprouts a feeling of pain
To see the plants being mowed down
Who won't play with me again
I see my playground turning into a town
Mourned I for many years
But neither man of hymn nor man of rhyme
Sings about my heart’s sears
Or to write about me they have no time
And dreamers with the dream of cream
Struggle without even a scream
They sing, write and stand against rape
But I cry to see the crime tape
Hearing the cry and the shout
My backbone bends and it's in a bout
I am old now but human on me had no pity
And let me carry loads of the city
Now I am no more a village road
And I stopped walking with a goad.
* Poem written by Herojit Philem for The Sangai Express
This poem was webcasted on December 04 2018 .
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