On The Eve Of Independence Day Poem by TADASHA TRIPATHY

Below the flag
When I stand with folded hands
With overflowing tears in my eyes
I think about the single single
Drops of blood, on which
The building of an independence
Was built and the drops to be donated
To keep it as usual.

The feelings of owner ship
Takes care the things to be owned
When I will think
Each particle of soil visible
Is my own soil,
Then I can able
To make
A golden country
And that will be my own.