Harroween

Ghouls and gentle folk,
the Festival of Forgetting begins.
Gathering around the bonfire
of buried truths, to roast ashes of remains.
A tradition older than outrage.

 Celebrating the pious art 
of inherited blindness,
where moral thoughts are disabled
and performance of paralysis begins.

Costumes of children bobbing for clean water
in barrels of charity,
Vendors hawk replicas of scented rubbles,
for guilt- free consumption.

Footages are watched to flinch stylishly,
placards paraded with rhyming slogans,
pleas are sock-stuffed by chimneys
of "everything-not our-problem".

When the ceremony ends,
they hang their conscience like
 pressed coats at the door.