Tuesday, July 2, 2013

The Winding Sheet Of The Living Dead


buried
under
the heavy
load of
his sufferings
the mumbai
living dead
you see a
bit of his
fucked feet
but not his
fucked head
he became
a boozard
a bevda
the pavement
the closed doors
of his destiny
his fucked bed
this sad poem
is a testimony
of a fucked life
he has led
less alive
more dead

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