Our Own, failed Us!( A Poem)

 Our Own, Failed Us

Dr. S. padmapriya

Sweet child, our own failed us,

We left our home states,

In search of jobs to feed our hungry bellies,

Our destinies twisted by lies of our own folk, 

We fled to feed our bodies and souls....

Our own failed us, dear child,

We die a slow death because of our own...

Our home states failed us,

Our own failed us...

We were left to fend for ourselves,

Forced to seek jobs elsewhere,

In other places,

Far away from familiar sights,

Smells, fragrances, feelings and fraternal ties,

We almost forgot our mother tongue,

We lost our sense of home and belonging,

Shunted from place to place,

Made migrant in our own land,

As we worked in neighbouring states,

Or in far away nooks and corners of,

The vast land that we proudly call as Bharat,

Building roads and houses,

And what not for others.....

Abiding by our national pledge,

'All Indians are my brothers and sisters.'

Our own kith and kin failed us,

Our own homes and home states abandoned us,

Leaving us to live like wretches,

Poor and destitute like abandoned orphans,

We live like the dead,

Just that we are not in our graves yet,

All because of our own who failed us,

Our own failed us.

Today as we slowly dissolve,

In the quagmire of manmade sufferings,

Caused by incompetent Heads,

Of our home state Bodies,

And years of misrule by imperialists and our own,

We die....slowly...slowly,

Tomorrow, we both may well be dead,

Before dying, 

I sing this lullaby to you, sweet child,

That my blurted truth will burn the conscience,

Of our own regional satraps,

And national leaders who ruled us for years,

Dropping us to die in the dungeons of poverty and joblessness,

Caused by greed, mis-governance and corruption,

Leaders who failed us,

Our own failed us,

Our own failed us.

As they sat upon their own shitty stuff,

Pardon my language, dear sweet child,

Let me speak now,

For tomorrow we both may well be dead,

Our own failed us,

Know the story of how,

Our own failed us,

As we left our disturbed nests,

Seeking greener pastures,

Somewhere, anywhere...

A place to call home,

Somewhere on this earth,

Bloodied by untimely deaths, tears, lies and cover up.

# The poem is dedicated to those people, who are forced to leave their home state and work in other places in India to earn their bread and butter because of lack of employment opportunities in their own home state. The poem exposes the inefficiency of certain regional leaders, who fail to generate sufficient and suitable employment opportunities for their own people.