Wishy-washy buildings
almost kissing the sky
granite, marbles, tiles
spic and span décor
bank papers pile
insane asylums house
restless inmates and lovers.

Comfort at hands
spotless roads and gardens
to choose
hollows cost inside
blank loneliness, quiet chews.

In chains of files, goes on life
unfulfilled dreams lie
under the azure blue
cries from inside
a thousand wishes die
imprisoned, in plastic paradise.

© supratik 2023
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critique and comments welcome.
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My idea of the very worst place to end up this isn’t paradise but prison.
Very well expressed with loneliness oozing through. Sue.

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