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In the Barber's Shop
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by Tripta Chandola
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Through the reflected realities
the washed out tiles
the gathered scum
the anti-septic emotions
lives constantly
refracted
cleaned and shaven.
Through the sharp blades
with a purpose
and no porpoise
with contagious cuts
fingers crackle
shivering
frozen and bleeding.
Through the lumps left
washed emotions
whispered lies
scared nightmares
scarring daylights
pass through
unnoticed in
the fake conversations
and heartfelt music.
Through the million gazes
showing too many of you
slowing too many of me
me, me and me
I
look,
look away.
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October 24 ,2004
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More by : Tripta Chandola
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