Cuts
Cuts
The cuts and the bruises never faded
Rather it freshened very often.
The pangs never left for the
Words fell upon the wounds again and again.
Nobody meant anything to anybody,
Nobody is anybody's anyone.
Nothing - and that is the Word!
It's Nothing, Nothing is Nothing. Nothing at all.
There was no distance covered,
It seemed, when walked miles
And hence, lots of miles were covered later to be heard why.
But when somebody gives to be somebody's someone,
the disguises revealed, the truth surfaced.
To keep one's head high and to sustain the dignity
Is to ignore the existence of that thunderous clouds
That often strike off the dry leaves from the tree
Which one's fed it.