Sonnet: ’cide!
This land is dying of its own accord;
Neglected are the people working here;
To live without this pay, most can afford;
Who cares about the welfare of all dear?
When corrupt bosses come so very fast,
The lower-rungs are eaten by white-ants;
Not one is bent on rectifying past;
‘Mahouts are killed by temple elephants! ’
The innocents get tortured in the fray;
If God could send a savior very soon!
Perhaps, the Maker expects us to pray;
The sun gives day-light and for night through moon!
Even the rains won’t come in time these days!
Yet, God will salvage in His time and ways!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 4-24-2007
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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