a poem by Satheesan Rangorath, India - poetry writer, author, poet

I have a collection,
a large jar full of
broken colour glass bangles
combed from all around world.

Glitter and glamour it,
now looks weary and faded.

Shaking and spreading down,
I often look at each one closely.
Talk to them in silence,
all of them once adorned,
a woman’s arm of dreams.

Now they are scattered,
shattered in meaningless pieces
adding mere colours to my hobby.

On silent lonely nights,
each one gets up to tell a story.
Some sordid, some about cruelty,
men broke some of them.

Some by harsh fate of destiny.

My thoughts entwined in them,
I listen until dawn. I turn myself,
into a Kaleidoscope reflecting-
colourful patterns of their vision.

Sun penetrates refracting a rainbow.
I love my dreamy angels,
sewing a wing on me.
Just to fly among dragonflies!

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