Glossy dried blood stains

If we don't have empathy, what will make us human?

Hands soaked in blood,
bodies of 8 year olds marked with lashes of leather belt.
Tears don't exist, fears but do.
On the lips of us all.
Cover your eyes or you wouldn't be able to live.
Look around, don't see.
The Hungry stomachs are shouting, don't answer their plea.
You see we have a Legacy of silence and a history of violence.
Programmed to tyrrany, designed for destiny. Misogyny in the air, steady your sight.
Don't let your hands tremble, don't dare to fight.
You see the back of a hand is the best teacher and anger in the eyes is the latest feature.
The beating makes sure that the response for stimulus of the skin is numbed and the shouting kills every last voice.
A white belt of void.
Yes a white belt, not Black.
Try the next smack.
A murderer first murders to protect.
Yes, a murder is a protector too.
To protect himself or the sister he loved.
To protect herself or the mother she cherished.
That boy saw her mother get raped and the other one saw her sister's get taped.
These are arrows that hit destructible parts inside, because we can't see their slammering heart hidden in plain sight.
You see I'm not trying to justify violence for once I dare to reason it.
I'll trace the Ugly patterns of blood and paranoia back to the beginning.
So, hold my finger and move along.
U see causing pain makes you hurt a little less,
At least pick up a cloth and try to clean this mess.
People ask me, "why are you so angry all the time?"
All I say is, "why aren't you"
A calloused shell so we don't feel their cramps of Hunger.
Scented flowers and silver cutlery to fill the gap, look we're still asunder.
Ego tussle with bones to brittle,
manicured hands but minds cripple.
Stop. Just stop...
Cheekhe sadko par na sunai de,
Imarato me phir bhi goonjti hai.
Suno, un cheekho ko.
Dard bhale tumhara na ho, tumhare Kisi apne ka hoga.
Dhundho, us Dard ko.
Aansu baha lo do- Char, us Gam Mein Doob Jao.
Kal Suraj niklega, muskurana hai kal fir. Listen to the young screams seeking you in the dark,
break the shells too hard for a start.
WHOA.
Slow down. Find some minutes from your busy weekend, go to the park.
Sit down on the swing, for a minute or two. And weep hard, for you know you saw those traces of glossy dried blood stains on the tyres of the bus you got down the other day. The blood of someone who was foolish enough to not care for a moment.

Author's Note

Please review my work as this is my first. I really need your support.

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

When we get worked up over something, intensely emotional, we find ways to decompress.
But there is no decompression for abuse as a child...and yes, those who are abuse may protect others at first, and then might turn to abuse themselves.
When it is all we know, it is all we know.
Powerful message in these words.
Tyranny never has a human side.
j.

[Ankita Dwivedi]

people have various coping mechanisms as u said .tyranny never has a human side yet so many humans are tyrants.maybe, they are not humans at all .Just the mould of flesh and bones .i.e. what is defined as a human structure.But being human takes more than that .thank you ,mate

[Lia Columbus]

I love your writing style. The way use both Hindi and English to create rhythm is awesome. This poem is strengthening and really forces one to introspection.

[Ankita Dwivedi]

thank you ,friend.
:)

[bookishmuggle]

I liked the imagery and the line "A murderer first murders to protect". I'm not really sure why but that line sort of spoke to me (not a murderer I promise lol).
Keep writing and I'll keep reading it!

[Dylan S]

This is a beautiful poem, about how people's fear and pain turn them to violence against others. In reading this I saw the blood stains. No one should live with the potential for this to happen to them.

[Ankita Dwivedi]

So true, sir. Thank you so much for your opinion.:)

[T.S. Ulmus]

Damn, that was moving. The purpose of any art form is to make the viewer feel something, and I felt something, you have a great well to draw upon. I'd like to read more.
I got the impression but you were taking a great gulp from that font of experience, I would encourage you to try sipping at it, I bet that would create some amazing poetry.

[Ankita Dwivedi]

Thank you so much for your advice. I will definitely keep it in mind. Just posting another:)