A Matter Of Exchange



Once I had legs, and you had

A bomb.

It was, you said, a fair exchange,

My legs for your bomb.

Once I had a life

And you took it away

Blew it to tatters and pieces

Spread it in the dust

With your bomb.

I scraped it together, piece by piece

I built it back again.

You took my legs, I got wheels

You couldn’t take my voice

You couldn’t take my tongue.

Those were too dear to barter away

Like my country that you occupy

With your walls and your settlers

Your blue white flags, your monster tanks, your fire-spitting guns.

But there was another exchange you could make

A sniper bullet, for my life

The life I’d scraped from the dust.

It was, you think perhaps

A good bargain.

It will not be.

From each drop of my flowing blood

My life will rise again
You will see.

You will see.

Copyright B Purkayastha 2017

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