Envy
Her silent steps the night takes,
ink-stained fingers sculpt erotica:
she is the child of disillusionment.
Crooked smile hears the words outside her head-
within reach, but not quite.
The mirrors in her room reflect
the kohl of her achievements;
she is a stream long run dry
in desperation for agriculture.
The cigarettes blister her lips
in the careless moments of broken shards;
she is the firefly caught in the summer storm,
beckoning lights have shut the windows.
Her world towers and reproves the thought
of her in the charcoal street;
she is a flower that blooms by the roads,
feeds on the dust
and craves to be steel.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Date: 06 / 11 / 2016
Copyright © Tamal Kundu | Year Posted 2016
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