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O DRIVER! O DRIVER!

O driver! O driver!
Slow up. Slow up.
Look, on your sides,
There roll the bodies maim'd,
Dismembered, dead...
Stop and look behind,
An endless trail of blood does flow,
all warm and thick,
That sweeps away the life
of humanity,
Away, by the savage wheels
of precocity...

O driver! O driver!
Slow up. Slow up.
Look ahead,
There mill about a shaken lot --
Depressed, directionless, unfed --
In quest of life and daily bread;
They know not rules,
They know not roads,
And carry loads of worries, angst,
and agitation,
Being blinded by loss of facts 
and gumption...

O driver! O driver!
Slow up. Slow up.
Do think of  the crowd,
And, over there,
Their hungry children,  
Their life and soul,
In their little world,
Certain of their getting home,
They play with merriment,
For their toffees and toys
And their daily nourishment...

O driver! O driver!
There lies their destiny,
And destination, 
A little over the strip,
But dread we deep your fits, and slips
Between the cup and the lip!!!

                                     --- N P Samal

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