Identity Of A Common Man Poem by Sudipta Bhattacharyya

Being tired after hard toil
I was searching for repose.
Madly I was moving to and fro;
Not because I was hungry
Not because I was in love;
I was exhausted seeing the agony
Of my neighborhood having burnt
By the demonic fires ignited by those
Demons in the darkest night.
I saw, speeches came to halt.
What I am! A prosaic, little creature!
What can I do alone, without any help.
All people are licking the feet of the statecraft.

Helpless as I am strike my head on my walls.
All people are licking the feet of the statecraft.