I am Brown

I am the balance

I am quite equanimity

I am colour of heart’s warmth

Umber, barks, kelp and ice-tea

I allow green

I am groomed to allow plunder on self

Stamped

I am revered by wise

They know I allow the fruits that feed

But make no mistake and take no assurances

Although, nourishing is my instinct

When I fear and I shiver for worth

When I wince at ignorance and cruelties

If I wince

I wish you didn’t allow it through you

This uncalled for

Stampede

My wincing stops the gentleness, the nourishing

The cracks in souls open pyres

You dug them in unconscious

Yet still

In the end

I will give you another chance

Let you ponder

When you mix in me

Buried, burned or taken in

You can stay a while

Knowing you denied a part of me

– Rupika Moitra