Friday, May 25, 2012

Friday's Children by Afzal Moolla


Mute. Deaf. Blind.


Blinded by the cacophony,
with tongues and ears left by the wayside,
dulled senses rotting away,

while all traces of empathy,
swirl into the gutter.

Willingly mute,
gleefully blind,
embracing the soundlessness of a billion cries.

Blind.
Mute.
Deaf,

consciences left to rot,
heartless and mindless,
as the promises turn into rust,

with all traces of empathy,
swirling into the endless gutters,

while the flag of freedom limply flutters,

in the impotent breeze.

Mute. Deaf. Blind.


Copyright © 2012 by Afzal Moolla







2 comments:

  1. Replies
    1. This is not my poem. It was written by Afzal Moolla of South Africa. But he would be pleased to know that you like his poem. :)

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