My Bosoms ain’t voluptuous,
Nor they lactate,
They have drained,
Dried up.
My bosom bleed,
Now transformed
To a rib cage.
My kin crawls upto them,
(For, he’s optimist)
In faith of his lucky stars
he sips, he sucks,
Yearning for a droplet of milk,
All in vain.
No fairies
in this turbulent land,
Carcass remains.
Oh, World!
Do you have a heart,
Compassionate?
2015 Ajay Pai (Reserved)
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