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Sankhajit Bhattacharjee Poem 285

Scientific Research Fellow in University of Wisconsin, Milwaukee


She was like a boat without a boatman

left in the middle of deep sea.

The head of the family never wore a helmet

to protect his head.

She was left alone with her daughter.

She needed security- a lifeboat.

She got his bosom friend.

She could not love for the second time.

But her new friend's face was covered with mask-

she failed to recognize at first- edible food can never quench men's hunger.

She was used and misused, misused and used.

At first she told police, 'My daughter fell from bed'.

Then she told, 'Someone pushed her'.

Her lifeboat was punctured.

She was sinking in water, crying, 'Help, help'.

The man was found with will, gold and notes-

caught red handed.

Her body was sent for post-mortem:

she was carrying a baby boy.

© 2021 Sankhajit Bhattacharjee

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