Jewels Of The Land
Accolades of Acolytes dance across banners to gongs,
drums and cheers.
They bulk up the news today.
Polished faces brighten gold-lettered pages;
The roll of honour carved with the ink of notoriety.
Dolls of Clay paraded as mannequins of Gold,
on red carpet;
necks decked with gaudy strings of eulogies
as the claps and rich laughter of their ilk,
draped in ‘only-for-the-day’,
thunder under glittering alien eyes.
Mines of uncut Diamonds are the museums of dross:
Battalions of flies lead the way with buzzing sirens
and spiders and cockroaches serve as ushers.
There are no praise singers here!
These places are littered with dust covered displays
in rough apparels.
They wear chains of broken expectations,
held together by thin threads, as medals.
And, they smile still.
Their smiles are the sparkling chandeliers
of this gloomy theatre.