Tag: poemblog

Our Love

Published on by Harpreet ChhachhiaLeave a comment

I let you go today;
I let you go, to sleep;
You are not in pain now
I, yet alive, must weep –

I cry for the love I had:
That which you showered on me;
I bid Death take it away
And it can no longer be –

I saw your body burn –
I saw the love you gave die –
I have met Death before –
I no longer ask why.

If I asked it of you,
I know you would stay –
Alive, you hobbled to me,
Though cancer barred your way. 

But I sought peace for you –
Love makes it very sad –
I had you put to sleep,
Now it drives me mad –

You’re no longer in pain 
So Death commands I weep –
Because as I let you go –
Our love I get to keep. 

No Higher Court

Published on by Harpreet ChhachhiaLeave a comment

I don’t appeal to a higher power;

Because victims have called to no reply;

And since the light itself does not bring sight,

Why not ask of the dark that made hope die?

I don’t believe in true dark and pure light; 

Because as monsters go, once you zoom in, 

You discern each villain, who kills and rapes 

And tortures, once was – or still is – human.

As such, there are some elites who profit

From the deaths of the hell bringers and ghouls. 

If I must choose the lesser evil,

Let the fools be the judge of cruel tools. 

We know the gods we pray to won’t bother;

But I believe humans as demons abound,

Who will, in the universal law of time,

Drag themselves, screaming, into the hard ground.

They Can Only Hope

Published on by Harpreet ChhachhiaLeave a comment

They can’t explain their hunger to you.

They can’t tell you they want your care.

They can only hope you won’t tie them up,

and drag them behind your motorbike,

until they rip apart, long after they strangulate.

They can only hope you give them a kind thought,

and allow them to crawl into the shutter gap,

away from the torrential rains,

your own greed has brought into the world.

They can only hope you won’t use plastic

to wrap their helpless newborn children,

and toss them in flowing or stagnant water,

or take time to bury them alive.

They can only hope.

Because they don’t know human beings.

They don’t know the stupid wars you fight,

and the way you shoot down anyone

who doesn’t belong to the majority vote.

They don’t know your history and greed.

They don’t know you have invaded their lands

and driven them out.

Your acts of genocide are unknown to them.  

They can only hope that you may give them a scrap of unwanted food,

under a godless sky, over a parched cement block,

and maybe just maybe 

let them be.