An Unrevealed Epiphany Poem by Bijita sharma

A spilt mind,
a boggling soul at night
it's not a tale of a lonely night,
it's a picture of the inner side of that
cotton blue shirt.

An old tattered shirt with the faded blue colour
with the vivid memory of the past
still waiting for the tailor to come and stitch it,
but the tailor is drunk.
Hope is in vain.

The next morning again, it went to the tailor.
With a massive hangover, he said,
'It will take time.'
a lot of pending work already.
The blue shirt is still waiting.