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Oct 2014
Im walking around as a man,
I see all the peoples numbed
And hysterical running sideways
Awash in all the bumpers and
Window pains.

A whiff of life matters and its suicidal.
I walk sober and wonder of gardens
And simple natures, a return to all
That that I forgot.
I see the institutional shadows
Hogging all the light.

It so happens Im sober now
And I'm fed up with this circus.
Being this kind of man leaves
Me feeling plastic.

Still- it would be nice to rain
A little hope now and again,
Leaving the panic of bills and
Payments behind for a few,
Maybe just breathe and know I am alive,
But all the people seem to be
Dying of the shivers.

I cannot live like this,
Like a fool with no bearing,
Wide open and wounded dripping
All the demons that seem better
Than this realistic catastrophe,
Absorbing the monetary blows.

Ive had all I can take from
The sadness, the pain, the old demons.
I step into your world and I decided
I dont like it this way either,
Dying of normalcy and repetition.

I am no cadaver, underground with
A bunch of metaphorical cadavers,
The paper be the morgue,
The words be the morbidity of the
Life.

Thats why I flare up indside like
A bon fire, when you see me up close
With the face of a poet, the life
Of a rogue, broken down and
Walking with grey October,
You will see me.

Something shoves me toward hope,
Dripping the fragments of darkness,
I fly out the windows,
Smelling afresh the air I know
Is there, I smile and I know
That I make hope,
Such audacious hope.

There, the trusted doors I open,
The horror that I leave,
The repetition I smite,
I still all the mirrors and take a deep breath,
Unabashed crossing your path,
I see with crystalline eyes,
The world I make,
The wounded heart that still
Manages to love,

I dare to hope,
I dare to live,
I live to hope.....
Written by
Swetank Modi  Kolkata
(Kolkata)   
417
   SPT
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