Bhopal

Death creeps
Death creeps
while the child sleeps
Death grips
Death grips
while the boy runs
The families of Bhopal are torn
The unborn are born
and on them the scars of Bhopal are borne
Alarms raised
but silenced
a boisterous town
silenced
pushed into the crypts of history
not to be remembered
Bhopal!
not to be uttered
Twenty two thousand souls
and counting
The pain, inscribed in the wrinkles of the Sari-clad woman
she lost her husband and her son
Perpetually sad, crying "Give us Anderson"