The imprisoned word
Second hand, minute hand
moved in a rhythm..
Days passed, years passed
the word remained within -
Within the corner of the heart,
Compressed, helpless,
Lacking guts for getting evolved
Stabbing the walls harder..
Overcoming the pain
The lips finally gathered the guts -
The guts to utter the word aloud.
Spreading a wide grin on her face...
Yes, I finally uttered -
Uttered the imprisoned word - "Maa".
YOU ARE READING
TANGLES OF AGE
PuisiThe pages of this book cage the lines of some poems. Those yarns of lines get tangled with the turns of each page according to the passing age of the poet - "How our age snatch us towards the infinite concentric circles of our thoughts... How we get...
