To the anonymous
No one recognizes
the silent ones,
the anonymous.
All are in the nude.
Posturing is the mood.
Some go underground
hiding in rags
bearing expensive tags.
See? All our chats
are keyed in
in an erasable format.
The true nature
of an entire life
can fade
at the click of a mouse.
For us,
someone else
memorises
and stores
this Present of ours.
Poetry by anoop.m.r
Read 919 times
Written on 2009-06-26 at 09:54
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