In Bits and Bytes

They told me they would fight,

Against all wrong; For what is right.

But when time came tapping at their door,

They merely watched - rooted on the floor.

In chaos of routine the renegades walked slowly,

Defiling the unsaid law, were beaten wholly.

All clapped rooting for the law,

Manifested with iron rods and knives and claw!

There was a young woman I recall,

On the train, at the dawn of fall,

Reclined against a seat - watching outside,

Perhaps dreaming all that we do, sometimes.

There was a young man too,

Newly in love, cheek by jowl they flew -

When an old man pointed at her attire,

"They're too tight, this whore's provoking desire!"

It was time, when deference knocked at the door,

But all they did was stand, rooted on the floor!

Goons rushed to serve the elderly gentleman,

Where stood the young man - stout and defiant!

'Insolent!' cried someone from the crowd,

Voice incognito but loud.

Poor young man tried to protect her,

But lost an arm in the encounter.

The arm that was destined to grow stronger,

Together through delight and danger.

And they, from the comfort of their bubbles -

Recorded it all with no troubles.

The very next day the media was filled,

With posts of condemn and shrill -

And the hands that recorded the horror,

Posted online their poems of love and terror!

The digital world said it was time to fight,

Against all wrong; For what is right!

I reckoned their emotions in bits and bytes,

Then shut my device and slept in the comfort of the night.