A bomb blasted in the train
Many people lost their life
A little boy orphaned
Cried: Why only my parents….?
Tsunami flooded the shore
Many coast submerged
The beachside family reported missing
Kinfolk grieved: Why only my family….?
Earthquake battered the town
Complete population grounded
The victims unheard petition
Resounded: Why only our zone….?
A blind baby delivered
Of beautiful parents
The mother could not stop her tears
Lamented: Why only my child….?
The entry ticket to this world
Is marked with obnoxious barb
Adversity nurses the virtue of man
But why in such appalling garb?
Abha, we always ask why me when tragedy robs of of someone close or nature disfigures someone we love. It is a question I fear will always be asked for as long as mankind exists. This is a fabulous poem. Top marks and thanks for sharing it my friend. David
'Adversity nurses the virtue of man'...this is a unique concept you've delved into here... maybe its because in sorrow, we humans tend to be selfish and think our pain to be the only pain and our misery the only injustice...I guess its part of our emotional needs...well written poem...top marks..
Fate works in so many varied ways...I just wrote to you to recommend 'My Mother Died of Cancer' which is the same theme as yours above which you state so eloquently...I look forward to reading more...nicely done...Coach
Great poem! Your poem addresses a theme that is universal. The purpose of suffering is indeed a troubling philosophical question. Why do some people suffer while others do not? Why must there be any suffering at all? And yet, the sweet would not seem as sweet without something bitter to compare it too. Also, perhaps the suffering of others is meant to make the the rest of us compassionate and caring, the hands of God in the world.
A good question has been raised in this poem that has bifurcated its essence in contexts of complaint to the God and the harsh realities of life mostly considered as a catastrophe.. What we face is the result of what we do..so still in each situation, keeping your pragmatism alive is the best option mankind has.........
Oh God, Why Me? Its a question for series of unending answers. Only eternity behold the mystery of this question. Good one buddy. I like this very very much.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
You have a fabulous last line to this poem. The question 'Why' is always asked. It shall continue to be asked until wisdom pervades the heart of mankind. GW62