Insignificant Other Poem by Nalini Jyotsana Chaturvedi

Insignificant Other



While you sling
That mud on me
Your own hands
Can't be dirt free

You have done it
In the past
Futile exercise
To bury me fast

But don't you know
I am that marshy land
Just another step
And you get sucked in

My end will come
Only when ordained
Don't try to rush
For you are lost
And from my death
There is nothing
Left to gain

Wednesday, August 6, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: Sad
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