A Sense of Belonging
Wounds of children glow like scintillating ribbons
around the black waist of ironies
taking with them the scent
of blushed cheeks of childhood
my seasons are memories of birds
that perch on charred branches
writing letters of songs
to smug spring
frozen in traps of rhetoric
I won’t come to you
In the syntax of newspaper headlines
and deconstruction of paperback theories
I am the dirge of a mother
holding torn raiments of her
raped daughter
the rubies of blood dripping from the coffin
of a child
hit by the colonizer’s bullet
a pirouetting rainbow top
on the demented floor of social psyche
this isn’t a sensible exegesis
but since when did being make any sense
dear ,
night is absolute blankness
and my shadow follows only me
in cataclysms of world’s reflections
I am here and nowhere
only nowhere and here
how pitiless everything has been!
come find me then
leaving
art of gestures and nuances of wit
find me
where I belong
hidden even from my own self
Poet can be reached at inshamuzafar19@gmail.com
