SB (23-12-1965 / KOLKATA)

Flashbacks Of The Scene.

It was not the midnight drill,
Nor any dream necked in blue.
People may cover their own defense,
When night becomes true.

Not all the vulgar words are obscene,
Nor any love indecent in color.
People may rewrite the history,
When time becomes bipolar.

Words can draw us fool,
Or make us wise, in mind.
But only for the flashbacks
We remain prophets, not blind.


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