Sometimes we run so hard; it’s hard to walk,
Sometimes it’s so loud around, it’s hard to talk.
If voices are soft, they are hard to hear... .
hard to see if our eyes our shut with fear.
Will I ever know what lies in your fist if you hold it tight?
If you show me your hand we won’t have to fight.
If I come close to you, you won’t have to scream.
If you close your eyes to see, it’s called a dream.
The metal with which our bullets are forged;
Comes from this soil, dug and explored.
Yet the bullet stays back with a bang! And a thud!
What goes back is this soil’s blood.
Enough have died for us to live.
Let us live for a change...
Forget and Forgive.
Amartya Ghosh
IX-B