Looking at that young cop
Something prods me
Propels my mind
What is different here?
Oh! Ah! Yes.
His face
It is humane
Tender yet.
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A few years will cure this.
His face will harden,
His waist will thicken
So will his wallet.
In equal proportions
Spitting paan and abuse,
Adept in misuse of power
He would tower
The innocents before him would cower.
In his shade
The harvest of corruption would prosper
He would be a terror
A force to reckon with
At the moment he is wet
The system stands silently to swallow him.
His face is humane, tender yet.
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