Outsider

Purbita Bhattacharjee

Abstract Tragedy

Purbita Bhattacharjee

Abstract Tragedy

1 min

168

English Poem : #22022 English Poem Abstract : #10672

table name pain

They sat for another lunch,

The feet under hell was devoured quickly again.

A Sunday of ecstasy they say,

Yet they took her childhood away.

Yet, they left sharing the pain,

Yet they left calling her name again.

The table was a ground of unprivileged battle, another one leaving at the stroke of the clock.

The glasses of depth and linen of embraces were all pretentious again.

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