Short Slam Poem on Delhi

Short Slam Poem Slam about Delhi:

Oh Delhi. How your smells have sounds and your sights have smells. Too ugly to reject and too beautiful to consume. Full of empty children with hands cupped to the faces of strangers as if they were waiting for communion from hollowed stares of twice removed memories that were never meant to be holy in the first place. The entanglement of your logic sows chaos into my hair fibers as the shock of it all sends messages of momentous discoveries cascading across the smiles of 11 million citizens. They say that One third of your population is in poverty. It's no wonder hope sinks to the bottom of the concrete wells instead of floating to the eyes of children her. One third. One third never gets mentioned by the media, but always gets studied by academics. One third of your population bares whiteness to murders and rapes, but the 7 walls of your 7 original cities have climbed too far backwards to let out the cries. Tell me, will you ever really let your memories vanquish your nightmares? Will the millions of Indian slaves that built the infrastructure of your own demise ever see the light of the kingdom they were promised?