Dear Mother, I am sorry,
For not doing what I am supposed to be.
I am sorry, for putting self above needs of humanity.
I was then afraid, of losing what I had for this
But now I know, sacrifice earns more than losing.
It pained my heart to see, and walk away
Doing nothing to stop yesterday
When they burst explosives
They, the ignorant, to celebrate whatever may.
It does not feel alright for me
To put my mind here and study.
It pains my heart to see
You being subjected to apathy.
Now lays scarred, your once supple skin
As now are charred, trees once green.
Please lend me the power to help me rise
For I cannot bear witnessing your demise.
I know, you are angry on us, angry on me
For to your happiness, seldom we pay heed.
But please do not harm, the poor, should be privileged
For your wounds’ cause are the rich, the educated.
Your anger is not for me to argue on
For I have let you down, to this day;
But I believe, as on your soil I am born,
I am responsible, to quell your rage.
Those in suits don’t see the harm
For they need vote banks to farm.
Your well-being is rarely their cause of worry
For their pockets can never brim full of money.
For you praise no religion, nor no race
And they know only reputation to embrace.
Whilst my own parents, do not see the harm beneath,
The harm, beneath ignorance, that shall itself unsheathe
When the rage you choose to unleash, after warnings many
They want me to be educated, so I can, better, look after me.
But how can I get myself to watch you wither,
And lead a life, with a future bleak and meager?
It does not make sense, to see you in shambles
Especially when times ahead resemble gambles.
Gambles, I say, for they now bank on us, the young
Those, who should enjoy, to curb a crisis flung
Out of hand, for their sheer greed of name and fame
Whilst their neglect as fuel, further fans the flame.
Blue skies, once replete with chirping sparrows’ melodies,
Now host looming clouds grey, reminiscent of melancholies.
A carefree life full of unseen dreams and many an opportunity,
Now hangs, like a thread over a blade, haunted by uncertainty.
She is out there, spreading word for what we all need, a change
Wading through words of hate, each intended to mar her image.
Amidst crowds, she wears a faint smile
Whilst fearing, of running out of time,
Amidst crowds, she shares words of light
Sharing hope, my people need to fight.
Mother, I remind, this mayhem is not caused by them,
Who barely can meet their daily ends, the innocents.
It is a consequence of many a politician
For whom your well-being is rarely an interest.
My people, are not known for losing,
They are not known for winning
And never will be for so.
But this isn’t the time for sorrow
For we have a war to wage
To curb climate change.
Mother, I pray for every opportunity to let learn more and explore
For I don’t have the heart to see you burn, whilst they ignore.
My destiny is out there, to cast light on issues that matter
And strengthen hopes of my people, before they scatter.
To watch poets, use lines
Forlorn hopes, that define
Is worrying, but also as your child, a duty of mine
To revive metaphors, that laud the beauty of sunshine
Instead of wilting flowers and wildfires
That remind of us times being terrorized.
For me, today is a disguised oppression
Where those with privilege and education
Live their lives, without a thought or worry
About the should-be-privileged hardships many.
To be here, where I am not supposed to be
And watch veils of their disguised toxicity
Engulf hopes of joy, fun and merry
Is and will never be, in my destiny.
Hence, I believe
Regret and sorry
Seldom shall yield
For I have to let go
Of times I can’t retrieve
And remind myself to breathe;
As every poem is one prophecy
And breath is defiance, every.
So mother, I promise,
I will surely rise
For I cannot bear witnessing your demise,
Regret and sorry
Seldom shall yield
For I have to let go
Of times I can’t retrieve…
