Forgive me,
If I protest the rich squeezing
All the life out of a human,
Denying him food, water,
A roof, and even clean air.

Forgive me,
If I am angry at the
Politician robbing my country,
Ensuring his seven generations
Roll in riches, yet worries
The eighth might starve.

Forgive me,
If I seem a peaceful man, but
Scream to see a tower crumbling,
A dad dying, a mom not there
To hug a child, lull her to sleep.

Forgive me,
If my blood boils when some claim
Their god wants them to kill, and
Torture, kidnap and behead, and
I cannot accept that killer god.

Forgive me,
If I weep when a
Religion turns babies into beasts,
Sends daughters and moms
To blow up, and blow up others,
And hails murderers as martyrs.

Forgive me.
If I seek revenge for
The rape of my faith, my trust,
My beliefs, my humanity, and
I see a man turning animal.

Forgive me,
If I raise my weak voice, my frail body,
My wounded conscience, and
My soul to fight, and fight,
And in my dreams
I slay the enemy, or lay lifeless.

Forgive me,
If I crush them and win, fighting,
Forgive me,
If I lose, dying,
Forgive me, please
Forgive me.

Yatindra Bhatnagar
September 20, 2002