The train comes by every morning bout 5
I wish that train would find a cliff and collide
It’s driven by a demon on a joy ride
Always, arriving with some poison to unpack
Where ever it came from, i wish it’d go back.
Whoever blows the whistle is most vile of all
He probably blew whistles at the plant in Bhopal
Uselessly sounding off while thousands died
Now they bring me their killer pesticides
To store deep in these hills, in the chemical valley
Here it continues adding death to the tally
If it leaks, everyone I know will suffer a similar fate
Carbide thinks life is worth less than methyl isocyanate
No Scars
No more wars
No soldiers
Let the battle fields be
Garden of flowers
haven’t we cried enough
how many have we lost?
Fathers, sons, Mothers, daughters
The toll mounts
We kept scoring,
Never cared to keep count!
We try to bury the unknowns story
Chernobyl, Bhopal, kansat,
we cover ourselves in, fame, glory
aren’t we lost in our own selfish greed
Wearing crowns and precious reeds
let us bring back the humanity
i would like you all to first go through the link and see the picture given.
may be then you would understand better for whom this poem was written.
http://www.makesplash.com/bhopal-gas-tragedy-kya-hoga-is-desh-ka/
A story old but still new,
The tragedy of bhopal 1984.
"People still in hunt for justice"
Still the newspapers heads it without a miss.
It was a cloud of deadly gas,
that engulfed thousands of souls.
Leaving behind their loved ones,
and sadness to its toll.
I could see his body buried,
just the face peeping out of mud.
A little innocent soul was he,
so small like a flower bud.
What life had he seen?
Had he even learnt to spell an APPLE?
Could he even know how to speak?
or had he even learnt how to grapple?
He lost his life that day ,
got buried in with his parent's dream
Im sure he must have cried out,
But none could here his scream.