Another April day,

Toiling for a living,

In a city where,

Uncertainty thrives.

Clean water is scarce,

Bread is costlier,

People's sufferings,

Make them prefer death.

There's little peace,

In this country,

Even though some claim:

"It's democracy".

Power breakdowns,

Costly fuel,

Hospitals overfilled,

With deathly smell.

In such circumstances,

Some souls, like me,

Still cling to,

Virtues, honesty.

Shouldn't we go away,

To a better place,

Where life is still sacred,

Where people do matter?

I see my motherland,

Being denuded and raped,

While I am helpless,

And have to withstand -

All the ugliness,

Of dishonest charlatans,

Who come into power,

And become Satans.

Is this the vision,

Of Allama Iqbal?

No, it can't be,

No, not at all.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Composed on May the 7th in Karachi, Pakistan.

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palewingedpoetess's picture

Naveed dear, keep in mind when you start getting low as you look around you that all that is transitory one day it will be no more. Don't identify too closely with your earthly home as its not any of us' true home. We are all but short stay visitors here. Even in the most dire situations if you look very closely you can see sprouts of beauty like remember your Afgani girl many times even in the most desolate place a beautiful soul will shine through its tattered vehicle of humanity and give one the joy of seeing the beauty that is in all of us. Don't let always what your eyes see, your ears hear and your nose smell depress you so. Earth is a dark tiny closet compared to our one true home. Be of Good cheer God is nearer to you than just that of near. I loved this poem even though it only touched on the negative ills of the world you see.
Look beyond all that and I bet the faithful soul. and talented poet in you could see much beauty beyond the devastation. you know why type it? lol.