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.

Comments about A Wartime Coffin

A very nice and touchy poem. Last stanza is beautiful. 10+ for it.
A great poem indeed to be remembered for ever.I could see a glimpse of my poem GRAVEYARD. THANK U SIR. sathya narayana
A wonderful methaphor indeed. thanks for sharing this nicely written poem. take care, melvin


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