To every sanction or outright embargo
There is a counter-movement.
No one walks on the streets on curfew days
Yet teenagers still play cricket, down empty alleyways.
Embargos too, make life austere,
Except for contraband that is sneaked through mules
To a place, only the smugglers know.
And sanctions, just like the disciplinary orders,
Given by parents, never stop the girls
From holding the apples out
For the quarterback or the power forward
To pick, after a game.
Freedom is, more often than not,
A weapon for the rule-breaking hero,
Who has a larger than life existence,
Seemingly becoming on the bathroom mirror,
A somebody, that dethrones his childhood,
To grow up, to learn that out of all things,
Love entertains, flying becomes
Your summer, gifted with the heroic song,
Of thrust and triumph.
