Poem: When The Lions Roar

In nineteen eighty-four

the government made it legal

they tried to make Sikhs no more

used methods so lethal,

to try to end a people.


A country that’s supposedly ruled by democracy

had its cities look like a giant bloody puddle

the government’s only skill is hypocrisy

hopeful survivors trying to huddle,

under homes burnt down to rubble.


It was not a riot.

This was a genocide.

Parents telling their kids to stay quiet

While the police are standing in a daze curbside,

Sikhs’ human rights were set aside to be denied.


The open roads stream with blood as it spatters

politicians, policemen, public figures just watch

lives now in shatters

as they sit back and sip their scotch,

and watch the nautch girls nautch.


No justice has been served

What a travesty

“Sikhs got what they deserved”

Such a horrifying fallacy,

No one deserves that kind of brutality.


Sikhs strayed

Thousands have died

32 years later, justice is delayed

Attackers and police are allied,

saying their actions are justified.


Now it’s our turn,

the youth,

to help those who want justice, those who yearn

to expose the truth,

to bare the proof, cause there’s no shortness of its routh.


They thought they could silence our roar

but don’t they know

it takes more than a beating to bring a lion to the floor

one day we will overthrow,

the corruption that doesn’t let my people grow.



Will be no more.

The end of our marginalization.

When the lions roar,

they tremble the floor.


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