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V.I.P.S

V.I.P.S

Poem By Shimanta Bhattacharyya



Sun-shy, crepuscular creatures
Smoking long, twisted pipes
Sit nervously
In the buffered seats of their limousines.

Swaddled in talcum
And designer three-piece mauve,
They duck–
On a sudden impulse–

Behind opaque, bullet-proof windows
To hide
Their itchy pelts
From a prying, sun-blazed world.

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Comments (1)

Good observation and expression about VIPs and their real state.


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