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Justice for sale..
Millions of us stand on the roads,
not waiting for the transports to board,
just searching the peace that is lost,
opportunities missed and the destiny tainted.
rugs are cleaner and not with punctures,
in certain place, but looking at these juncture,
why are these people let to wear such attires,
Why aren't they cared and seen as equal?
When sugar, grains and spices are procured,
value their sweat to value these commodities,
Why do the rich want to buy these necessities,
at the price of these poor countries?
The beautiful blouse that we wear,
the elegant shirts that covered with the coats,
branded ties, meticulous belts and shoes,
believe me, might have been made,
with 25 cents per hour petty salary,
their children are alive half empty,
while our children are obese and naughty,
these people do not have to go to hell,
as they already live a life of hell,
where they drink untreated water,
frequent power cuts, clogged drains,
herbal remedies, god given diseases,
entertained by the music of mosquitoes.
poem
by
Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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