My motherland I present to you my woeful verse,
All acclaim to the Britishers.
The two splendid, glittering eyes,
The Englishman’s sniggers and the Indian’s cries.
The separation of the land of God,
This beautiful place disfigured, dismantled and distorted.
But never did the folks feel the guilty conscience,
Fighting for nothing and burning the dust.
The reason belongs to the gritty minds,
We can be the ones to make the difference.
My heart just whispers bluntly to itself,
The rich get richer and the old man sighs.
Just like we find Ram in Ramzan,
And Ali in Diwali.
P.S.- It is based on the division of India into India and Pakistan !
It is my first SONNET !
It is my first SONNET !
-Rahul Kedia(RHS)
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