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I come everyday to the sea
From the other end of the town,
And between the distance, amid the crowd,
Few Faces shout aloud,
Faces mirroring mine,
Faces that no more shine.

May be they too had a molten past,
Like the year last,
may be they too long for the sea, and
Seek solace in her serene beauty.
But the faces don't frighten me,
For they wink,
Like a baby cute
As I know a simple truth,
That ages ago, a mother's womb had burst,
And many like me were scattered all over,
Names different, faces covered,
Going somehere, , walking free
Bleeding on a predestined destiny
And so in disguise the mother tells me,
I am them, they are me.
Shouvik Roy
Saturday, October 13, 2012
Dave Walker 13 October 2012
A fantstic poem, faces of our past are always there. my poem called Mirror Images is a bit like this.
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