A Wartime Coffin
Poem By Ershad Mazumder
I am a deadman
There is none to carry my coffin
The street is barren, remote sound of boots
Barking of dogs are floatinf on the smoky air.
I shouldered my own coffin to the graveyard
Caretakers ask me
Who is this in the coffin
I replied, its me
Livings are fighting with vultures
Embedded journalists are all around
Medias are eating their own flesh
Its a time now
To carry your own coffin to the graveyard.