A child.
Shooting a friend
With a revolver;
A smile lit up the innocent face,
'My friend is dead', he said,
With a sense of innocuous achievement!
More guns started selling
Encouraged by delinquents,
Countless candles started melting,
Media had eyeballs rising,
Thanks to the incident.
Whose fault is it?
World framed with weapons,
A designed deadly habit?
An octogenarian understood the plan,
Said, 'the child is the father of the man'.
©Supratik Sen
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