It was a tiny pustule, <br />That welled up as a sore, <br />And erupted, <br />The doctors diagnosed it as caste, <br />Its not cancer they said, <br />It’s just a sore, <br />It’s benign, <br />Not malignant, <br />So do not worry, <br />The doctors do not know, <br />It eats the soul and corrupts mind, <br />It’s a pustule and a sore, <br />That bursts and overflows, <br />It becomes malignant, <br />When I was young it was a pustule, <br />With taunts it grew to be a sore, <br />Its genetic, they said, <br />Hereditary has a large role to play, <br />Like diabetes, <br />So do not worry, <br />But my school mates say its contagious, <br />And ask me to sit separate, <br />They will be infected by touch, <br />I wonder if it’s benign as the doctors say, <br />But my schoolmates say its malignant, <br />I am worried it could be malignant, <br />So seek a cure, <br />At the local temple nearby, <br />The priest said it is malignant, <br />It is your karma, he said, <br />For there is no cure. <br /> <br />© Mathew Thomas,2013<br /><br />Mathew Thomas<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/karma-71/
