The theme of my poem is a “Call to a Nation” in representing an inner voice of an old farmer who is affected by the flood in Pakistan. Whose family was displaced by floods; sit on a makeshift ground, as they just want to take shelter and breed his kids. My poem is dedicated to millions of people like the old farmer who were affected by the great disaster in Pakistan, when the sky opened up and the monsoon rains flooded over one fifth of the country. He is displaced, lost, disturbed and now in a state of trauma and looking for a help from his nation.

 

POEM: CALL TO A NATION

Ah, my crops swamped,

My house overwhelmed,

My luggage looted,

My striving wasted.

My hands are abandoned,

My eyes are inquired,

My feet are trembled,

Oh God, my kids are displaced.

Just a wild blues yonder;

Abide on the head.

Beneath flow of flood all over,

Reaching rapidly closed to us.

I do not want anything,

I do not need anything,

But my kids are greedy,

Nothing left to breed them.

Requisition on their lips,

Desirous on their faces,

Glitter Hopes and tears in vain,

Anxious to cease their thirst.

Muddy water on the ground,

Touching their bag of bones,

How can I guard them?

And put in under one’s wing.

O’ Nation, an innocent call to you,

Act a small part of something,

Which God has given to you?

Just breed my kids and shelter them.

Still in a hope to see once again,

A delighted life with full of fun,

On my kids smiling faces;

Though the generosity of God.

Alas, no one feel the pain;

The pain burning inside my body.

I wish no one can face it ever,

A time I am facing right now.

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