Feet
My heart punched my mind
No more watching it then said
It all happened just when I noticed
When a train journey me carried
A man of darkness shaking his toes
Swaying his legs with dirty soles
Meant to me it a lot
A man of conceited sort
Then to myself I interogated
Stupid custom, Why ever prostrating dirty feet
Seems kicking, chucking on bad treat
Dirty folks never to be trusted
And who is not dirty?
Are humans perfect and pretty?
Suddenly sparkled on sparking feat
The temple idol, Its unshaken feet
Oily, grimy to kick the greedy and dirty..
'Hey stop
And prostrate' my heart punched me
poem by Indira Renganathan
Added by Poetry Lover
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