The Cloth Of Hurt Poem by Eila Mahima Jaipaul
The Cloth Of Hurt
the mirrors reflection stares back at me
with long dark curls
a smile-less face
and searching dark eyes
carefully I turn
this way and that
at my cast reflection
I even peer back over my shoulder
to make certain
yes,
I am sure
it is indeed sadness
that sheathed me in its dress
so closely to my body it fits
my new agony wear
suggests everything it hides
leaving nothing to the imagination
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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4/26/2024 6:49:21 PM # 1.0.0.1119
I see the garment of frustration tightly dressed.Splendid.