Circumstance

The way you’ve never,
Not even once,
Looked back at the
Tattered and sublime
Features and innuendoes
She tried to forge, hurts;
The way you’ve never,
Not even once,
Thought of the faded
And hated uncanny words
You’ve spitted at her
Muted mouth, hurts;
The way you’ve never,
Not even once,
Taken a second glance
At the raptured murmurs
She painted on her
Burnt hands, hurts;
The way you’ve never,
Not even once,
Swamped that puddle
Of memories of when she
Was young and pretty, and
Had an unscathed future, hurts;
The way you’ve never,
Not even once,
Tried to ensconce her
Moulded clay pots which
She made to fit perfectly
Into the lines of your hands, hurts;
The way you’ve never,
Not even once,
Told her how beautiful 
The wrinkles at the side of
Her lips, eyes and nose look
when she fakes a smile, hurts;
The way you’ve never,
Not even once,
Took the effort to show 
Her love when she begged
For any single form of love,
Even brutal, hurts;
The way you are, 
And how somehow, despite
Being none less than
Parallel lines, have made her
The way she has become now
(Spiteful and sardonic), hurts;
You, old man, hurt;
But now, she does more.  
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28 thoughts on “Circumstance

  1. Thank you for liking “Illiteracy in America Infographic.” Your poem made me think about how people need to pay more attention to the way they treat other people. One negative action can start a negative chain reaction that is sometimes difficult for people to break free from.

    Liked by 1 person

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