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At Random!

For there are words and clothes
similar in ways which
may or may not be put
in places.
But silence and skin are both uncomforting.

Coz they show us the truth.
Truth is again what we perceive.
And what we perceive is what we choose.
What we choose is not the truth, atmost, almost.

Cycles are confusing
because we need an end.
There is none.


We put blanks where we question or
don't want to answer or wish to feel more.
Take a teacher and an escapist and a lover, sequentially.

Still there are routines, schedules, trackers and plans.
Someone is running away,
We are running out.
Mr. Time is arrogant.

Have faith some say.
Have fate, I do.
For there are words and clothes
dissimilar in ways which
may or may not be taken back
in places
And silence and skin are both comforting.

Coz they show us the truth.
At random,
without a mask.

Take an escapist who taught you to love oneday.

SoUmY@

Comments

Madeeha said…
So much truth at random... I love your poetry soumya. It stirs my heart so!
An anonymous said…
If we talk about postmodern poetry Soumya, this one is by far the best I have read in recent times.

I donno who you are and I don't want to know too because, you are too sharp.

May god bless u.
Anonymous said…
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

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