Treasure Island

Prabhakar Subramaniam


Rat race


Death came early
Like a wintry night
Out to put out all light;
Friends could not tell
Friends from fiends
Who wore their shoes everywhere
Not caring what they trampled upon;
The toys were plucked away
From three-year-olds
Who were pushed into the rat race;
The funeral pyres
Of normal desires
Never stopped burning
There were so many corpses falling
That mass graves became handy
It didn't matter to anyone
If you ate or slept
Or laughed or cried
It didn't matter
If you lived or just died;
There was talk for a while
Of a safety net
Before the proposal
Was dropped as not cost-effective;
The law of the jungle
Was embraced like the truth
By those who preyed
On those who merely prayed

Submitted: Saturday, March 16, 2013

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

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?

Comments about this poem (Rat race by Prabhakar Subramaniam )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  9. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  10. Invictus
    William Ernest Henley

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. Reflections, Nero CaroZiv
  2. The shadow in my garden, Piyush Dey
  3. Something and something, gajanan mishra
  4. OUR PAINS AND OUR SUFFERINGS, MOHAMMAD SKATI
  5. Colors Of The Rainbow, Anthony Daniels
  6. Hiccup, binod bastola
  7. Life and death..how we come and how we g.., krishnakumar chandrasekar nair
  8. You need me, gajanan mishra
  9. Infractions Rained Down Tears, mary douglas
  10. poetic shenanigans, lee fones

Poem of the Day

poet George Gordon Byron

So we'll go no more a-roving
So late into the night,
Though the heart still be as loving,
And the moon still be as bright.

For the sword outwears its sheath,
...... Read complete »

 

Modern Poem

 

Member Poem

[Hata Bildir]