Categories
mutter peace. Poetry sob

Peace By All Means


The poor soul needs peace.


The old woman talks to herself all the time

seems to swear and curse someone every time

her eyes are fixed on an object far away

could it be a man or a substance in a way

she gestures and gesticulates

her actions are most articulate

she mutters “you, you——you”.

with a vengeance and an anger in blue

her toothless jaws are ever active

they go up and down in a proactive

the words are broken and torn

her voice is cracked and almost gone

she mutters with a spite

as sits  in a chair  tight

could  it be a man over there?

could it be  a woman  fair?

Oh! you cursed soul still alive

Oh! how could you thrive?

the begetter of all my troubles

Will you not falter and stumble?

How can you live for long?

when you have committed so much wrong.

She goes on and on with a sob in between

Poor soul, wish her old woman peace by all means.

By meenas17

A lover of classical Carnatic music.
An avid reader, passionate writer, into stocks and investments for livelihood

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