Broken Taboo

by DarkLight   Sep 12, 2014


They say they know,
am a spoiled soil
like snow,
I sweat my toil.
Dry lands,
Whom am I lying to?
Comforting words,
nothing much can do.
We are like plants,
I am poisonous
not really important,
If all I am is dangerous.
Scared tattoos,
Like a fallen foreigner
My homeland taboos,
Full of art and designer.
A broken cover,
Hail to a bloodstream
When the storms is over,
Comes silence of a fading scream.

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Latest Comments

  • 9 years ago

    by Meena Krish

    What I gather from this write is that the depth of this
    poem holds something very painful for the writer. Where
    one has given his all yet people take it for granted. Just like a piece of land, or one's own country, where she gives her all yet her children take her for granted and say that is how it is...touching.