The Wolves In Streets Poem by Dr. Yogesh Sharma

I live in NCR, a big heartless concrete jungle,
Not a day to memorize, as all are cruel days;
I am ready to die in NCR- it does not trouble me-
Without fear, any day, like today, in autumn.

It shall be a Friday, because today, cherished Friday,
As I lay behind these lines, I have lowered my shoulders,
To the national evil. By no means akin to today have I crooked,
And surrendered my entire voyage to the ways where I am alone.

SISTERS and DAUGHTERS raped and killed. Wolves struck them,
All of them, though they did nothing to them,
They hit them hard with claws and hard stuff;
With the end of all hopes. Witnesses are: the dark Fridays.

The broken bones, the seclusion, the rain, and the cruel roads...
I recognized that no brave soul would rise and assist,
Me! The lonely and wounded bird, I did nothing wrong,
But sadly injure myself in this secular process.

Yet, I was shattered and dejected to see the soul die out;
Because there was no hope for her. It was over and done
By everyone and everything with the exception of for me.
The driver did not seem to care; the world did not seem to care.

But I did... Though I did nothing:
The soul's youthful and childlike song fell silent,
For only painful notes squeeze from the tongue,
There was no response to her sore plea.