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A Thousand Wounds - Bipul Banerjee

A thousand wounds concealed,

Behind a thousand masks.

A camouflage of skedaddled emotions,

Cruising in and out on,

Turbulent roller coasters.

The pain emitted from each laceration,

Mingles and multiplies in quantum.

A punctilious disdain of origin,

Yet to be discovered,

As each hurt has harrowed deep within.

Ersatz smiles do the job well,

Confiscating the right to cry.

Encapsulating the oozing debris

Decorating and repacking the metamorphosis,

In an evenly distributed civic style.

They say, ‘time heals’.

At what pace is unknown.

Do the moieties matter or,

Is it just the sheer sovereignty that reigns? (C) Bipul Banerjee 2019

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