70 years of Independence and this I know
my flag flutters high but my head hangs low
how cold the sun on this great glorious day
as men once on a path are now galloping astray
children are dying for breath and we fill our lungs
with venom that chokes and also coats our tongues
and the hurt, the horror, the hellacious heartbreak
is that it’s whataboutery that keeps us awake
how did so much hate come to fill our veins?
what happened to our hearts, and to our brains?
what made us so blind that we choose not to see
that the abyss is staring back into us in glee
my eyes aren’t red and my tears don’t show
yes, my flag flutters high but my head hangs low.
ram cobain
(Indian Flag pic courtesy Google)
(The ‘abyss’ reference is obviously from Nietzsche)
