Gopal pens an evocative poem on lockdown, about the plight of the poor, helpless migrants. An exclusive for Different Truths.
The dark night amplifies,
the pressured heart of the poor and homeless.
Final flecks of pedicures chip away,
you are coming face to face what lies beneath.
Silent cries litter the doorsteps and window panes
phone calls are full of halos and tears.
The smell of smoke
and the pungent musk of the chemicals are history now.
A tuft of grass is slowly riffling,
amid the calm sea of blades.
The quarantine hero rises up in your dreams,
the promise of rebirth looms large.
Photo from the Internet
Feature Picture credit: Lockdown Vectors by Vecteezy