BENAZIR ; TEARS FOR A PLUCKED ROSE.
She was a rose,
Among thorns, of extremes,
Opressed womanhood,
Oppressed downtrodden,
She was courageous,
Even death which
She recieved courageously,
Perhaps courage
Was her second name,
She led a population,
In faith of developing it,
Tears rolled on cheeks,
At her assassination,
On many faces, uncontrolled
Grief stricken, she became
A matryr in a few days time,
On landing in her homeland,
What would have the earth
Felt where the tears fell,
Though a lot more blood
Was shed, we have nothing
But tears for a rose plucked
Before being withered by time.
Ravikiran Arakkal
RAVIKIRAN ARAKKAL
2007-12-29
21:32:36
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