Francis Osho Poet I do not know?

28 August 1963-1

we were tired
after the long march for freedom hundred
miles of trekking hurting knees sweating skin
too hot a day for the mid autumn may be the pain
fever in the big city after the cherries have blossomed 
n gone like an endemic influenza
sea of people like the sand on the beaches
stretched beyond her innocent yearning hazel eyes
the preacher was on  talking of dreams proclamations
emancipations and  discriminations in the valley of despair
we were dreaming too
she was yellow and i was brown under classifications
imagine our children what could they be maybe violet
purple green blue indigo orange lilac crimson  pink or red
tissues are pink and the blood red for all sure i have seen
imagine if we were born with all these colours or like a rain bow
well back to dreams again we were dreaming
for a world where there is
no cast creed colour or country
sect state party religion hell or heaven
the greatest speach of the liberator was on
he was on fire lighting up the masses
he was moving our souls but  the system was not functioning n
we couldnt comprehend hence we shared our cold beer turned
warm we were tired and was lost in the crowd for a while

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