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Jan 31
The slow dance with yourself, prom.
No partner in crime, no getaway.
Caught, red and white all I see.
The sirens of my heart, ringing.

No Heer, No Ranjha.
No Paris, No Helena.
No Laila, No Majnu.
No Romeo, No Juliet.

Ties and Dresses
Corsage and Coronary
Royal Red carpets
straight from the heart.

Epileptic lights
Face in a sea of masks
Empty hands and waiting eyes
Welcome to the Lonely Masquerade Ball.

Where no faces exist
home of the masks.
Where no hip is free
Siamese twins.

Only heart that beats alone.
Only open eyed one
Only closed lipped one
Soulless, Loveless.

Hordes, Masses, Groups.
Flurry of flamingos
Cackle of hyenas
Litter of rabbits, garbage.

The ugly duckling
Oscar Wilde
Stars on Earth
Rainbows in storms.

Missing posters, wanted.
Revolving doors, wait.
Get the getaway car
Go Go Go.
This poem is about somebody who does not belong. A poem about isolation in the midst of traditional love. And a poem about getting away from that place.
Yash
Written by
Yash  17/M
(17/M)   
374
 
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