The Overself Poem by Kishore Asthana

The Overself



In the bedrooms of my mind
Some still alive, live no more
And others long dead
Sit and smile
Suffusing me with their warmth

In dark corners, huddled
Are the sick and lonely
Giving the lie to how the eye
Sees them in the outer world

When I meet people new
And get to know them better
I wonder which door they'll find
In the bedrooms of my mind

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