Cry Of A Left Out Poem by vidyut chakraborty

Never should I come back to shake your hands
I am cursed, I am belittled, I am thrashed.
When the dawn crawls in your bed
I am the wind to kiss your eyelids
You wake up and I vanish into blue
When you take shower and look at yourself
None but me laud your bathing beauty
You come to my dream, you caress me
You are the one sharing all my poetry
You can come you can go
You can flirt you can flow
But I am…
I am a deserted stream where no boat sails
A meadow where no cattle rattle
A forgotten history where all stories are dead
because
I am cursed, I am belittled, I am thrashed.
I shall not come back to pray your hands
But you are most welcome to my
Stream, meadow and history.

[Salt Lake 10-26PM 08/09/2014]