Broken Child by Neha Agarwal

I wonder why they brought me here, leaving me to rot in this odious jail
My biggest crime: wanting justice and basic human rights
India’s freedom was stolen, while the British rule prevails

And then, through the bars, I see my broken child

His face painted the colors of the flag: orange, green, and white
His beautiful eyes already hardened by what he has seen
But it is too late to fix him, mend him, make him right
I want to teach him, help him, give him someone on whom he can lean

But in his eyes, I can see something tough, callous, and mean
I watch as it lurks in his soul, consuming his once pure heart
It’s something sharp, powerful, and dangerous — it’s something unseen
He’s fighting to get the darkness out, but he doesn’t know where to start

I want to comfort him, hold him, whisper sweet words in his ear
Tell him people are peaceful not belligerent, that our country will be free soon
But even if I could reach him from jail, I have nothing to say he wants to hear
All he would be able to notice is my face coated in metallic maroon

And then, through the bars, I see my broken child
My broken child fixing a broken country
Taking a broken country and making it whole

 

 

Neha Agarwal
Neha Agarwal is a fifteen-year-old student at the Groton School. She is an avid reader who enjoys writing poems and short stories. She also loves spending time with her family, singing in the shower, and eating lots of chocolate.

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