Those who are stripped off of a beautiful childhood forever stays a child under an adult costume, 

Like a budding flower nipped in; then forced to grow with broken petals, 

Sunlight doesn’t kiss their toes, 

Those who don’t have a meaningful youth- 

They remain destabilized-

Those whose toys were snatched away they rent human-toys later-

Rob the joys of others,

The charm of youthfulness and seduction runs in their vein even at odd hours, 

Like an old rum- strong enough to drowse you!

Scattered throughout, spilled all over-

Intoxicating but cheap yet branded as a soul saviour! 

That’s how those old people behave-

As if they own you-

Erratic and controlling-

They want to suppress the voice in your head,

And, fill it with the anecdotes of their failed comebacks – medieval treasure hunt and loot of virgin suburbs, 

They hoard all the things what once they missed!

They looted the painting of ‘Virgin Marry’-

And, distributed it to the beggars in rags!

They wanted to sell the scrolls of poetry but nobody attempted to buy those-

As they needed a pure soul to understand the words mightier than the swords and costlier than the golds,

But, alas! Their sunken souls were drunk and sold,

And, once they blabbered to a young poet,

‘What a painter has that you don’t have?!’

‘Well, the precision: the art of patience! ‘

And, what do you have that the painter doesn’t have?! 

The labor of words: The art of understanding the emotional world and putting it into words! 

We are the lingo-workers drowned in the sweat of words! 

We try to awaken mad people like you if only you could read between the lines and comprehend the meanings! 

The drunk men left the bar throwing fits-

Oh, a rotten snob! They smirked and waned in the alley,  

The first rays of a delayed sunrise couldn’t meet their feet,

Stuck in a timeloop-

They come back again and again in the form of mad men and begotten soul-

To beg your attention, 

At the same place, at the same hour-

To stir an emotion in your heart,

You write to depict their soul that they don’t understand, 

You dissect into their minds better than they could ever do themselves,

They crave the light of your enlightened soul,

But, would never acknowledge! 

Hence, they want to steal your light-

But, couldn’t! 

So, they tried to derail your path,

Influence your thoughts through injecting their scripted plays,

But, they didn’t know you are also an avatar stuck in the loop- who will thrive and arive just as the same parallel they are in- over and over again!

At the same hour they are aware of who aren’t, 

At the same place with the same wound, they disappear in silence,

Keeping some fragments of words to whisper the echo of tormented souls- they will remember and rekindle ! 

©® Farheen Bhuiyan Nancy 

Time Frame: 8.50 am, MIST, Mirpur Cantonment.