A Stranger
In the flawless clear mirror
I look at my familiar face,
the nose, the eye, and the ear
are all there in their place.
Still people think I am strange,
I ask myself, why?
My mind’s nonconforming range
I can’t control even if I try.
My mind comes out in the open
walks to the felled fawn forest,
people’s set minds can’t discern
if it exists or is hidden in the chest.
Through the introspective eyes
I look deep in my beating heart,
the warm blood and the arteries
are all there playing their part.
Still people think I am strange
I ask myself, why?
My invaded feelings fume in rage
when I find people pry.
My sensibility breaks the shackle
and runs alone to the lilac lagoon,
the fickle minds people can’t tackle
think I chase the veiled blue moon.
Strangeness is a stranger from nowhere,
a symbol of fawn forest and lilac lagoon,
an alien perception that strangely stares
at people who don’t see the blue moon.
August 22, 2017
Contest : All Yours (May 9)
Sponsored by : Brian Strand
Copyright © Subimal Sinha-Roy | Year Posted 2017
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment