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Yatih Jha Poem
Tears trickle down my face
As blame of something I did not provoke,
Comes screaming my way.
I told them I said no.
I told them I screamed.
I told them I begged.
But all that came my way was
A merciless laughter,
Telling me it was all in vain.
My clothes were blamed
And so was my body.
What am I supposed to do,
When both are belittled
Despite the form they take?
I asked them what my fault was,
I asked them why they defended them.
When I was the one begging them not to blame me.
For all I remember is walking down a moonlit street,
My overcoat tied to my upper body,
Knee-high boots concealing my lower body
And eyes ignoring the lustful gazes
That made fear turn my mind into incoherent dazes.
Suddenly the moon turned red.
My overcoat was thrown away
And boots screamed on the pavement,
As they mercilessly dragged me away.
My screams were muffled
And my eyes were teary-
Both with tears and pain-
Before my body succumbed
And they had their way.
Copyright © Yatih Jha | Year Posted 2025
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Yatih Jha Poem
A father dead,
Forced to leave his daughter unfed.
A husband gone,
Leaving his wife alone to mourn.
A soldier lies awake at night,
Desperately pleading gods to end this fight.
He doesn’t want to hide in the dawn,
To mourn over his innocent enemy’s shroud.
The egos of their leaders stand tall and high,
Mocking the dead innocent enemies without a shy.
The night opens up to a new day,
While the day bleeds into an endless night.
That’s when the innocent enemies come together,
Holding hands and apologizing to one another.
The tears stream down their eyes,
When they share their guilt over bowls of rice,
And hope the new day brings a shred of light.
Copyright © Yatih Jha | Year Posted 2025
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Yatih Jha Poem
I hear the screams of pain,
Falling on deaf ears in vain.
I see children crying over dead parents,
And parents crying over dead children,
While spouses cry over their dead mates,
I try not to panic as they lead me to a camp,
As the fear of future leaves my cheeks damp.
The darkness of the explosion surrounds me,
While I try to shield myself from the painful emotional heat.
And run away to not turn into a lifeless meat.
It leaves the children traumatized,
And the children terrorized,
As they struggle to live their way out of a mass homicide.
The gods cease to exist,
And leave us with the sadistic devils to resist.
I see my future in the flames,
And my entire life bursting up in their diabolical games.
I hold my friend’s hand,
As I see everything I cherish, crumbling into the sand.
Hope seems to be miles away,
When all I see is the slope of barrel pointing my way.
So I do what I need to do,
I kneel. I bow. And I surrender.
And finally let a tear fall,
Before my soul leaves my body with a guns thunder.
Copyright © Yatih Jha | Year Posted 2025
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Yatih Jha Poem
Physical pain never hurts a raped man
Or a sexually harassed woman.
It’s the reaction of the world upon their pain.
Its not the look of pity in their eyes,
Not the look of disgust,
It’s the silence of the world upon their pain
Had the Germans during the Nazi Germany
Ever told the Jews that they were also
Just as beautiful as them,
Even their death in the gas chambers,
Wouldn’t have been so ruined of self respect
Every movement
Every protest and
Every struggle has a voice of its own
Silence was never an answer
The raped man or the sexually harassed woman
Wouldn’t have been so depressed.
The Jews during the Nazi Germany
Wouldn’t have been so ruined of self -respect
Had the world not silenced itself upon their pain.
Copyright © Yatih Jha | Year Posted 2025
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Details |
Yatih Jha Poem
They follow you into the dark,
Into the depths of valley’s and
Shallows of forests.
Till they find you alone,
And tear you apart, despite your desperate moans.
They stay there till there is nothing left.
Till every bone is broken and bent and
All your cries and pleas are spent.
And somehow, it’s never their fault.
It’s always you, your clothes or your body.
Your mere existence is a crime
And you are made of pay for it,
As if your body had no rights,
You are born to satisfy their desires,
To tame their insatiable fire,
To be their slave till your heart appeals.
It’s not their fault.
It’s yours.
You are born for it,
Now you bear with it.
Copyright © Yatih Jha | Year Posted 2025
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