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Poems
Dilemma

Dilemma

Poem By Shimanta Bhattacharyya

Why should I love him
(Though he is my own flesh and blood)
Stroke the acanthine head
Feed his every whim?

Being but made of milk-white bread
And bred in the season’s drouth
Do not the roots of the maggoty fruit
(Juicy, round and red)
Sprout in his toothless mouth?

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