Am I of this world?

The world intents to have you hidden,

Hide your pain in name of propriety,

Hide your love its uncouth to display,

Hide your ambitions, for some its vain,

Either mildly or exasperatedly tangled,

None of us could be same,

Yet we try and bind at levels of display;

Cover our distinctive player self, 

Hide that which  translates the mold,

Lest, threatening is your presence,

Bizarre your vision,

Follow collective preset rules!

They don’t want to play,

Minds loves pattern,


Energies can’t be covered,

Is it indeed our need?

To show and be; who we are,


Is it the need of the convention of human, to abide;

So powerful, this convention,

Androgynous ones can change as powerhouse of attraction,

  Sheer hold of collective human power,

The very animistic of expression of human,


It can change it’s define to extend that human can forget and forgo their choice

Human, your societies have the weirdest compliance.

We don’t know the answers yet we follow,

Yet we chase,

So, here’s to:

Following endlessly this world into its pit,


Standing eternally joining the dots of it’s  paradox,


Recognizing those before who revealed,

Shrouds of modesty cover the eternal raw,

I cover and cover,

To hide every distinction,

And yet;

You and I

Are we at war?


-Rupika Moitra

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