A blind man looking for colors
A poetry about how the black color means peace and the white can be impure.
The clouds covered the blue sky that day
And the bright day slowly turned dark
And the little brown bird flew over the green
in the search for its nest.
But the wind blew it away from the home.
What color is the wind I asked
They failed to answer.
The wind and the rain blew away the bird and the nest
It’s little kids were crying for their mother, hurt, wings broken, feathers torn covered in the red blood.
The little drops of tears,
Covered their little eyes they said.
What color is the tear I asked.
They failed to answer.
“They white is the pure one
And black the evil” I once heard from a wise man.
So is the wind black because it destroyed lives
Are the tears white because they took out the pain from the body, I wondered.
Well, what do I know
I’m just a blind man looking for the colors.
A loud sound I heard
And then the screams of children
I couldn’t feel the pain of the birds,
I couldn’t see them
i didn’t understand their cries
But I did realized these were the voices of my kin crying.
The panic I could feel coming from people
Many little souls departed to the God’s home.
Some to the hospital
And the cries of the mothers for their kids
The worried brothers and sisters
Waiting for their parents to come home,
The plead to the their Lord
To save their loved.
I could hear the footsteps
Racing in hurry
The wheels and the sirens
But again what I hear the loudest was the crying.
I still remember all such stories.
How the wind and the rain that destroyed the nests
Saved the houses by putting out the flames.
So I guess that makes the wind & the rain
I wonder what color would the flames look like
That burnt the big dreams and little wings
Black maybe, because all they did was
They brought the miseries.
Of the pain
& The fear,
The eyes full of tears,
Watching the lives burn
What color would they look like
What would be the color of the heart filled with greed
Of those who did the sin.
The one who took the lives
To fill their sack of rice.
Well what do I know
I’m just a blind man looking for colors.
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