Poetry

pradip chattopadhyay


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15 march 2012

Gone are the Keys

You are out of touch
So long so much
Trapped in the box
While the outside knocks.
A hectic day late night
Steal from you dawn’s light
Always busy chasing a farce
You have no time for night stars.
Maybe you regret you may curse
Missing to listen what wind whispers
Missing the spring the autumnal blue
You have no clue to the box you glue.
Meantime the colors come and go
In the pearly moon the heavens glow
You have no time outside the box
Gone are the keys to open the locks.






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