Two Trunks

One they raise
When they are in power
The other they raise
When they lack it
Right becomes left
North becomes south
They look dreadful
They look haggard
When they raise the wrong one
Light becomes dark
Filled becomes empty
The other is soft and smooth
When they are with the right one
Now shamelessly they drink with the two
Sitting in the crown to rule the rest.

by Kshyama Sagar Meher

Other poems of MEHER (11)

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