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
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