Part 28: Heroes of my land

I know a man, but not his race.

I saw him work last night.

When all was dark, there were tears and cries,

He stood up, my enemies to fight.

I know a man, but not his religion,

between bullets and my city was he.

For me to reach home and be there safe,

he stood there and bled for me.

I know a man, but not his name,

when i called, he gave me his hand.

Some call him a cop, some call him a 'jawan'

... I call him a Hero of my land.