Death in the marketplace

December 31st, 1998 admin Posted in Poetry |

Happy souls tried spreading cheer
as best as they could,
The business they knew was better than good.

The spirits were high
And so was the sun,
The crowd at the market place was finding life fun.

A shot rang out,
a voice was heard,
no one cared any more for a bird.

Blood gushed out
And on the pavement fell,
Whose face it was no one could tell.

A child began crying,
a body began to fall,
the crowd circled outward,
and became a staring wall.

Heavy was the sound of silence,
The child too stopped his cry,
Time passed as they watched in awe
the writhing body die.

Soft murmurs of dissent,
Louder began to grow,
“Why didn’t somebody call for help?”
was what everyone wanted to know.

They all moved on pretending
to have done all that could have been.
The change was fast from a crowded
to a deserted scene.

Soon they had all gone,
all except one.
A little boy was sitting tight,
waiting under the sun.

(Anil Krishna, 1998)