We write because the fireworks on our fingertips
Are not meant to light up cafes in Bangladesh
Or cities in Syria.
Because words are powerful And poems don’t recognise borders, Or race, or religion, or colour.
Because black or white or brown, yellow, rainbow In the end, we all bleed red Hate doesn’t discriminate.
So love shouldn’t either.
We write to touch the soul, Our own and others Bleeding ink for our world.
So the world bleeds a little less red.
Because we believe in words, and dialogues Not conflicts and bullets.
I choose ink.