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Pradip Chattopadhyay
Poems
Apr 2017
Unwritten
Words are now
as if
I never wrote
gather as an aching
lump in my throat.
They don't seek paper
only a river
to pour and mingle
in refrains of a dumb sadness
flow away
sunburned and tidewashed
to where the river is widest
deepest with sighs
of life not enough
in once only
and when just begun
ending broken on the shore.
Written by
Pradip Chattopadhyay
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