A Circular Tree
Very often I
mess my thoughts up
As at the moment
I believe I am a circular tree
trying to offer shadow
An umbrella the birds
inside me asking for
but to no avail
Whenever I attempt at
the sun dims
I am afraid
if it's dimmer
All my dreams will die
No dreams no coffee cups
for the brown flour sticks
to sink
No further
I am running out of
my turquoise ink
Copyright © Probir Gupta | Year Posted 2022
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