Treasure Island

Mathew Thomas


Karma


It was a tiny pustule,
That welled up as a sore,
And erupted,
The doctors diagnosed it as caste,
Its not cancer they said,
It’s just a sore,
It’s benign,
Not malignant,
So do not worry,
The doctors do not know,
It eats the soul and corrupts mind,
It’s a pustule and a sore,
That bursts and overflows,
It becomes malignant,
When I was young it was a pustule,
With taunts it grew to be a sore,
Its genetic, they said,
Hereditary has a large role to play,
Like diabetes,
So do not worry,
But my school mates say its contagious,
And ask me to sit separate,
They will be infected by touch,
I wonder if it’s benign as the doctors say,
But my schoolmates say its malignant,
I am worried it could be malignant,
So seek a cure,
At the local temple nearby,
The priest said it is malignant,
It is your karma, he said,
For there is no cure.

© Mathew Thomas,2013

Submitted: Wednesday, April 24, 2013
Edited: Wednesday, September 25, 2013

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

What do you think this poem is about?



Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

improve

Comments about this poem (Karma by Mathew Thomas )

Enter the verification code :

  • Hardik Vaidya (4/24/2013 5:13:00 AM)

    Brilliant write on the social crimes and continuing caste holocaust in india. Exceptional Mathew Thomas. (Report) Reply

Read all 2 comments »
[Hata Bildir]