Do Not Weep At My Pyre

Do not weep at my pyre
What burns there would not be me
I was gone twenty years before.
I died the moment I got my conscience.


I watched my father working like a machine
Only coming home for sleep and a frustrated wife
I died for the first time.
I watched people in starvation, helpless
And I, helpless, died once again
I felt my love, the epitome of beauty, to slut around,
A bit of me died mocking me.
The corporate inhumanity killed me everyday
Like a burning dagger in a young flesh.
I watched a young girl feeding a bastard
I died for a most shameful death.

Do not weep at my pyre
For I have died and wept for all of us!

by Rishik DuttaGupta

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