Have A Blast

“Go to bed son, it’s time for your bedtime story”
Oh how I heard my mom telling me about the times of glory
From a sacred kingdom to the civil war,
We learned to know what it’s worth fighting for,
Lord Ram came back to the kingdom,
The whole kingdom was lit in celebrations,
The tradition is being followed even now,
I just saw a squirrel’s incineration.
What wrong did that little being do?
I guess it was just passing by.
The selection of nature I guess is cruel,
But it was burnt alive.
The whole tradition was to light up the place and make the whole world glow as if there is no darkness even in the night
 But all we see is smoke, dust and burnt dreams of the children working in factories to burn our money outside.
Why will we care about this earth? What has it done for us?
I wish you’d have the oxygen cut out for you, I guess that’ll take out the fuss.
Because I am angry as no one seems to care about this.
Because the winter isn’t here, but the fog is.
Because I have a problem with breathing, that is the case of 1/3rd of the population.
Because we are caught up in the same old situation
Of being a part of the nightmare, or part of our dream
To whisper in the dark or in the daylight, should we scream?
Because the world isn’t listening, it is supposed to be deaf.
When all the fireworks burn outside, ash is all that’s left
That is burnt carbon, shame and pity is what I harbor,
I can’t begin to believe it’s true.
That a festival to celebrate has become a festival of doom.
I can’t tell how to do stuff, I guess you are civilized
But burning money is a shame,
There is no need to wonder why?
But let’s just say that I am stupid, “thinking way too much”
I guess we can make a difference, if there is even one mind that I can touch
I can change one’s opinion; maybe I’ll change of two.
Because now I believe that impossible can’t be true.
 But If you are still wondering whether I have lost my mind,
So go out there, have a blast, this was a waste of time.