Where Is My Pen?

A 7 year old raped brutally.
The students beaten mercilessly.
Crores laundered in the scam.
And democracy is now a sham!

Religion, a reverent affair.
Is now a sacred weapon.
Regularly fired in the air,
Its bullets, claiming tons.

And naivety is not more than a facade.
With everyone playing equal parts.
‘Cause the decent naives,
Are meditating in their graves.

The leaves are withering.
And the birds have flown.
But things are burgeoning.
As our society has “positively grown”.

I’ll write an honest account,
Of things that always haunt.
But where is my pen?
Oh! I forgot!
It belongs to “them”.