Stranded In Iraq Poem by Hardik Vaidya

40 odd blokes.
Indians by the color of their passport.
Suffering from effects of zero gravity.
Bone density decreasing.
Surprisingly the passport seems weightless.
Back home families pray
Ohh lord for once had we been Americans.
Chance would have been on our side.
Rhetoric, public hoodwinking, false bravado
All bereft, now in the government
The government wishes it were the opposition
Opposing for the heck of it
Whilst 40 odd blokes,
Fathers, mothers, children, sons, daughters,
Waste away,
Dying slow deaths at the hands of their passport