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The Estranged

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Below is the poem entitled The Estranged which was written by poet sangeeta saha. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.

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The Estranged

The Estranged [A dedication]

         Jay was sitting in his small cell
         His head resting on the rails
         Staring with an absent minded wonder
         At the raiment on his shrunken shoulder.

         Is he the same man! or a shadow of
         Jay Sen the scholar, the stylist philanthropist
         The graceful spendthrift, a sophisticated sophist.

          When did his advent venture turned into adversity!
           When did he turn an addict, refusing golden opportunity
          He couldn't make up his mind
          He couldn't cope up with the blind  
          Those who can't differ
          A gold and a plated glitter!
         Those who have used him and
          Threw him like a burnt cigar.
          The cynical pseudos who blamed him a psychic
           Accordingly they deserved blows and kick.
          To some 'normal humane' this was unusual
           An act of violence, not so sane and frugal
          From then Jay's address is 'the Asylum',
          The 'kind' home for mentally disturbed hoodlums.

         Just then he saw himself
         In a half burnt cigar, the warden threw.
         Smoke was still rising, it's still alive, he knew.
         He wanted it so badly, he stretched his hand out of the rails
         And a sudden pain gripped him
         A hooked rod ripped him
         Drawing back his bloody knuckles
         Jay cries a song of pathos
         A rhapsody of agony mixed with rage
         Fills the air of the dim lit cage
         The half dead creatures exhales sighs of sorrow
        And thus the sighs and cries moves on
         As great waves of echos.

         One night an angel surely came for Jay
          With a candle glowing with a serene light
         Not for money,not for fame, but only to spread love
           And took away all the painful humility like a feather touch of a dove.
          She made the disturbed calm and quiet
          Mr. Jay is a reformed man now, always happy and satisfied.

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  1. Date: 4/7/2013 9:35:00 PM
    This was a great poem. I enjoyed it too. J.

  1. Date: 4/7/2013 12:18:00 PM
    Even though you did not write a tribute for a soup member I thought the poem was so good that it should have exposure. I loved it.

  1. Date: 4/5/2013 8:29:00 PM
    Sangeeta, this is a nice and lovely tribute. Congratulations!!! God bless your blessing poem. Goodnight*LINDA

  1. Date: 4/5/2013 10:37:00 AM
    congratulations Sangeeta

  1. Date: 3/24/2013 8:24:00 AM
    Soup mail