Cinna-4 Poem by shuvo chakraborty

Sqeeze the hearts which ye may come across,
Hinging like hundred oranges on the boughs
In mountain blue; all are thought full of juices with golden hue.
Mild pressing with cautious fingers
Make them silent drops and wet the stone filled way
Like the unaccounted tears of mute yearnings
Flow like slim stream over the rough cheeks.
The juices are sweet but the tears are saline,
And this difference may give you time to ponder
Which of fill visages on dinning time
Overlooking all the faces yawning drowsy and dull.
Some may obstinate to quench his or her eternal thrust
Ignoring the lineage on the glass and cool the burning heart.
You may, a confused self sitting on fence
Hair split the draught more skill full to bring back the lost mirth
Dwindling fast with aged hairs like white faced witch
Turning youths from horses to mules by feared wand of time.
All costly Incubates of unholy palace with hungry looking
Suck all the paid comforts for which with many leaving dwellings
Has travelled miles to retrieve the lost peace in lousy life.
Alas! This palace too is dry and glasses full of tears saline!
All the drops of oranges gone waste that wet the stones,
Singe not our souring nerves.
Leave the sqeezing of hapless hearts,
All tears of ordinary eyes without substance, can see only night and day.