The Third Man Poem by Samarendranath Mahapatra
The Third Man
I have no consumerism.
As a lone struggler I am
I know where the shoe pinches
Most of the time,
I feel the pulse of my purse
Each time.
Dream is far away
From my cloudy eyes
Spring has no charm
In the reign of thirsty desire.
I walk and walk searching
A lamp post in the night
And find none with me
Once at sight,
All along the pre-turmoil quiet.
Sunday, April 19, 2020
Topic(s) of this poem: confessional
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5/2/2024 9:34:17 PM # 1.0.0.1119
