Sleep came silently
Amongst the hubbub of the
place
And the man slept
indifferently
To the harshness of
his bed
As the world moved
around him
And the cold wind
wrapped its blanket
He slept nonchalantly
To everything else
Without a hint of luxury
Without the lament of
poverty
The sleep came and he
slept
Just a like a death
But unlike death He’ll
wake up
To his piercing
reality, sometime
And his stomach will
speak in a language
Which only a stomach
can understand
Till then he sleeps
Indifferent to
everything else
Even if he had a dream
His dream will be realized
in this harsh bed
© Tarun Mitra
2 comments:
Beautiful poem. This is the first time I am visiting your blog and liked it. Just one suggestion - the image background on post is making it a little difficult to read.
@Abhra Pal...Thanks for your visit and encouragement...I agree, but still to find a good background..
Post a Comment