platinum beauty
a doll I threw away
where mud was dense
dark was warm
density and volume
dictated a colonial conflict
I consciously tried to avoid
but beauty and bossing superiority
that doll afflicted by its production unit
never can't smell its vacuum
threw it away
better from mud
another clay doll
could be made again
Pranab k c
27/01/2015
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem