torn pagesA Poem by poddar kushalTorn pages Torn pages from daily dreams and diaries.
They are all scattered on the blue carpet. Pick up a piece and wet your palm The color of blue digs deep roots within. A Sunday is emptied out of an old box A treasure and a ghost roam and their sighs You can’t wipe, can’t wipe, from your fogging eyes. Time lays loose and you shut in the old box.
© 2008 poddar kushalReviews
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14 Reviews Added on February 19, 2008 Authorpoddar kushalkolkata, India, IndiaAboutlife and trying to earn bread made me an advocate. mad at my own stressful self, turned to writing. poems mainly. but, there are several short stories published in my mother toungue 'bengali'.i live i.. more..Writing
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