They came without any warning
And left us with nothing.
They broke into the house of someone's dream
And left us with nothing to eat.
When we were not at home, at mid-day,
They came with trucks and elephants.
Some fainted,
While others watched in vain.
After this day, I am sure they will come again,
But this time with cameras,
To click pictures of our wet faces,
People left us as refugees,
With nothing but biscuits and cakes,
Some were left with their broken homes and
Some with broken hearts.
Some have left their schools,
While some have lost the right over their land
On which they have been living for decades.
As I write this poem in this night,
Under the shimmering moonlight,
I see them coming again.
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