No one in my city is singing
but the kings of this land.
People go to the streets
just to get sprayed
the scars showing their kids
never to parade against the king
or you will be like me
No one in my city is singing
but me.
I might be small but my courage is tall.
I might be young
but my mind has sprung.
I’ll dodge the insults
and command an army
O’ the king will be trembling in his seat
the defeat will be so sweet.
I will be in the books
of future generations,
the birth of a new nation.
A happily ever after,
This will be America’s new chapter.
Swastika Jajoo, 17, is from India. She is pursuing a degree in English Honors from Lady Shriram College, New Delhi. Poetry is her window to the world, and writings which address the larger issues in life enthuse her the most. She is an ardent baker, and loves playing around with ingredients as much as she loves playing with words.
