Come, in the morning time
You see a beach so pristine
The sands are golden and clean
The blue sea has its own sheen.
But come a few hours later
Left behind by the receding water
Is a beach awash with sewage
The sea’s price for human bondage.
It’s enough to make one sick
All that sight of shiny plastic
And hundreds of dead fish.
It does make one so wish-
When will we learn not to litter
And make this world a bit better?
For the sea keeps no secrets
Reclaims its own, returns the rest
All that man offers in unholy homage
And all of man’s filth and garbage.
A behenji by any other name would have seemed equally gavaar.
2 comments:
Ah.. an apartment on the 25th floor facing the coast would make me just as poetic.. The view from my window, this moment, i can see men swimming in the gymkhana swmming pool, wonder wat lines i cud dedicate to them..
Fat men swimming in the pool
Ignorant and looking like fools
Their pot bellies rolling about
Water spouts from many mouths
Chide me not, scold me not
Their praises turns me red-hot :-)
Hope that solves your quandry
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