Indian Roads Realism
by Akansh Ashok Malik
While I was roaming in the Indians Road,
I see the moments which bind with cords,
The hapless one begging for life,
While the strong one collecting it on knife.
Corruption on a richer one mind…
Can’t everyone be some kind.
Poor roam without footwear,
While some have every hour wear,
In Dinner, Tears in some one eyes
While some want whisky with ice.
Piteous Children roam without the dream
Or their dream is as short as need of butter cream.
Just stand against this gap,
Or one day it will be harder to fill this spread.
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