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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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