Inside the Head
I have something to say
These days I don’t pray
As painters paint the sun grey
The waters don’t caress the bay.
Light or dark whatever we follow
With gay faces hiding minds hollow
Tranquilizers seem best to swallow
As the world looks fine and mellow
Lovers don’t vow each other’s trust
Love is driven by the wing of lust
As flesh and bone dissolve in dust
It is better to live as metal-cast
The fog, the mist, inside the head
Destroys the sleep while in bed
Men becoming so power-fed
Deep within we all are dead
Copyright © Jhinuk Mukherjee | Year Posted 2021
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