He is too young to know
What the white gauze on
His brother’s face means,
But when he understands
Why his sister only sees
His father does not respond
To the sound of ‘abba’
Anymore all he will ever know is
The surety of a rock in
His hand, and that of slowly
Simmering anger in his
Heart, the only map leading
Home, will be the one carved
By pellets on his broken back.
- By Pranjal Sharma
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