Broken vow


The shrill cry of starved crickets
ruined the highfaluting sounds
of the joyride of dubious politicians,
yet they are mad at us,
the innocent bystanders;

they are mad at us for staring
at their glamorous and pricey cars,
and for counting the flashing lights of the diamonds
dangling from their necks,
and for dusting off from our faces
loads of dusts the strong muscles of their cars
threw in the air.

We will not forget the anger on their faces,
the scents of their sweated armpits,
their leaping saliva as they cursed.

We will not forget where they started years ago:
at our corridors where we drank from one cup
as they vowed to create a new heaven on earth
if we cast our votes for them.