The prejudiced grip.

     Geetha munnurcode
A check, a cross or a band of cunning cops
What’s that standing and posing upright?
Casting shadows, grim and faint…..
In my paths of serene solidarity..…….?
Why am I pushed back?
And shunted
By an unseen force……..?

A prejudiced shrewdness
Seems to echo from nowhere,
Just to gulp my very existence.
Nay…! It’s my catch!
You would better grab not –

How serenely I had built up
Fineries in my deeds and dealings!
Now crushed and crackled
By an unexpected engine hand……!

Yes, I do grudge apologies
To my inner self, that
I could have foreseen
The things change colors often
And a man’s moods
Would change the entropy
Over turning and grounding
What comes his way!
Where the self is the only beneficiary!

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