Revolution: An Impotent Rage

I could blow to smithereens
the wealth of the rich
could play a rob-in-hood
kill and steal
to give the poor a fair deal
could hang all the glib talkers
from the highest post
feet up head down
publicly displayed in the town
break the iron walls
bulldoze the palaces
pull them down from the throne
where I sent them
put an end to their dastardly game

but this mind's wrath
this hand's gun
can't pop even one bullet
can only ink
a dawn pink emotion

of Revolution.

by Pradip Chattopadhyay

Other poems of CHATTOPADHYAY (1611)

Comments (3)

Revolution for a good cause is always considered a necessary instrument to set thins aright and bring justice to the deprived............a well crafted piece on a good concept
'Revolution'... good one... nice poem.
To give the poor fare deal and to bring revolution open and smooth heart is needed to understand and feel them well. Excellent piece of work.