Boxed shell

How real is this fact
That I’m out here, able and intact
Underneath shelters and shelters of
Clothes, blankets and thick walls
Preserved in like a specimen
Segregated and closed off in a pitch black cellular chamber
That’s silent, faraway, and forgotten
Awake, with a buried heart that wonders
Whether there’s a man in a forest
Who could hear

 

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Chari चरी (Bird)

Oh sweet bird, you who flies across from my house to his
You are so high above, I wanna touch and pet you
But you hurt me so, as you fly towards the rainbow
always out of my reach.
You cut me deep, each time you flutter away in dreams
And I’m left dying with agony
unable to breathe,
helplessly crying on the balcony
While you flutter away, above me

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