Scar
P Pradip Chattopadhyay
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Soon his car was full of scars.
Was a time
He kept it clear of grime
Dusted off even a speck of soil
Put in his labors all his toil
To see
His car scratch free.
But in this running game
One after the other came
Streaks upon streaks of rough embrace
Leaving behind the ugly trace
Of unerasable scars
On his new car
Now he sings in philosophic mode
Scratch is inevitable as you run on the road
You can travel only that far
Beyond which waits the first scar.
Bu şiiri puanla
Henüz puan verilmemiş