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Where Are My Veggies?
I wish I can pen a poem
That sounds funny like a cartoon
Or raise a deafening slogan
Like the opposition men
But I couldn’t laugh or bargain
Neither could I protest nor defend
When carrots challenged me at fifty
And a bunch of coriander at twenty
Like a voyeur at the veggies I leer
My tongue yearned for a tasty meal
But my wallet pleaded austerity
I returned home adding a little gravity
Who turned the Green gardens
Into barren concrete yards? I wondered
Soon we may have to learn
How to eat bricks, cement and sand
Who is responsible for this sin?
Converting lively Earth into a dead machine
Did the Mother consent to this mutation?
Or has she changed her religion?
I flinch, as much as you do wince
Can one cartoon; one newspaper column
Or a poem alter this situation?
Can they stir up the Govt. to its senses?
As an old saying held so well
Of what effect is Sun,
Chill or rain
On thick-skinned oxen
poem
by
Sathya Narayana
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