Bare minimum / Diya

my city pains
the city i don’t agree with
placid, pale
the sky hangs
etching it’s darkness
onto empty pavements.
the air is still
it is a quiet hour before the sun sets.
a lone ambulance whimpers along
and then silence.

yesterday the police
dragged a disabled individual
making a point out of
her incapacitated self.
who will make her trust
someone again?

shame hangs its neck
and waits for time to forget
this day
these hours.
humanity is a destitute of
palms spread out,
asking with empty hands
for what was always theirs.
who will tell them they do not
have to beg for what is theirs.

in the curve around the bend
of the road,
helmets and shields rest
before they begin blurring
the line between right and wrong.

Diya is from lahore. loves old trees, words and surreal nights~

*ode to lost humanity may 2023, Pakistan. 


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