The skin folds the body
Undone for any word
To come from a plastic face
In a obsession to doubt itself
Never to crack in anyone’s suffering
Even quite much it can hurt
Never allowing any one to enter into it
For it knows not how to trust.
A faded smile replaces the organs
That would not even get lost at the bottom
To sail the boat on a false sea
From countless years to endless days
Artistically designed to overflow to a question.
The ‘you’ cannot be another ‘you’
To meet its end without asking.
One day every of its plea will be a begging
For a naked baby doll on the bed room floor
Disfigured of its beauty
In the hands of a fake artist
Simple to trust in cheap tricks
To make an illusion of everything to be perfect.
Its face pretends not to grow up
Embroidered with a name on the calendar
Accidentally dropped on the ground.
Too many knocks on the door of a paper world
To foster the plastic heart
In a lust for the final defeat.
Copyright@ Dr Sudhansu Dash