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An Unusual Museum !

Dynamic poetry and people



My poetry is a museum
where I keep my skins
peeling it off after
taking off all my clothes
in a place full of unknowns,

someday people pick the flowers
to bring to the graves of all the skins
I shed in the form of my words

Some gets so comfortable
they want to see every inch
of my skin

Other are too terrified
that they put daggers into my neck,
the moment I unbutton my collar button.

 

Comments

  1. Umm..to be honest...I loved your thoughts..I liked what you wanted to infer. But umm..you can write so much better,

    PS-DONT HATE ME. I read and comment honestly :)
    ALSO I LOVE YOUR BLOG.

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    Replies
    1. Thank you for being so honest .. these days i'm trying to experiment to say things in different approach .. last two post i have failed still posted to get the honest review of you people !

      PS - why should i hate someone for being so honest that too in a benefiting way ? I love your blog too :)

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  2. Ankur...Grammatically check the same and update it. I agree with Red. :D I love the thought you've tried to put up!

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    Replies
    1. Did that ,, Next time i will try much harder to match the expectations :)

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  3. We've great expectations from you...actually you're responsible for raising the bar..some of your pieces are sparking brilliant :) ... though I liked the thought you wanted to convey...I'm not so happy with the form...

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    Replies
    1. yeah I know ... Thank you for your honesty and read :)

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  4. Why why? It's good... But you know... Let's get concerned about only those who can relate to your writing even if they are few. You write great. (Y)

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    Replies
    1. Like i said only some gets comfortable :) Thank you so much :)

      Delete

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