Tattered Moments Poem by Namita Rani Panda

My life is a torn piece of cloth
with innumerable holes generously eaten by moths,
my hope is confined in the wrenched aluminum bowl
which I extend to beg for sympathy but they howl,
the bones peep through my parched skin
that triumphantly declare the victory of starvation.

Tirelessly I go on stitching my tattered moments
with the ivory needle of wistful dreams
but that tears my cloth instead
which is too tattered to be stitched.