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Sankhajit Bhattacharjee Poem 221

Scientific Research Fellow in University of Wisconsin, Milwaukee

A Broken Tree

He was like his mother-characterless.

He married a good lady, was blessed with a son.

The garden lizards change their colors-

like and love change like weather.


With their maid, he fled away.

His mother deprived him from property

but not his wife and son, they had gone forever-

the river flowed a lot, none returned.


His wife never married twice, his son became a professor,

his news got wrapped within spider webs.

Who can mend this broken tree?

Instead of red flowers it will bear yellow fruits forever!


The broken tree is not yet dead.

Relationships once born can never be wiped out forever.

Cooking without salt can never make you a cook.

Likely, distrust prevents union, reminds detachment.

© 2021 Sankhajit Bhattacharjee

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