Editor's Choice
Theme: Habit


These shackles are related to me for a long time
Like precious ornaments, they sat on my limbs for years
When ferocious loneliness in the prison would spread
On my mind like a desert, the jingles of shackles sounded
The world’s sweetest music to me
Now I am all free
Yet the sense of bondage lingers within me
Every day in the morning I sit on the cushy Sofa  
And caress those symbols of slavery for no reason
My son asks me, ‘Papa, why do you play with the shackles?’
How can I convince him that now the shackles have entered my nature?


More By  : Prof. Madhav Sarkunde

Views: 1457     Comments: 2

Comments on this Poem

Comment Thanks mam

truth seeker
29-Nov-2014 11:58 AM

Comment great composition Prof!

29-Nov-2014 07:00 AM

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