Friday, July 1, 2011

The wheel turns

Words have a way of coming back
Like dogs you try to lose
Like curses you have hurled
At others in the manner
Of hotheaded holy men
Interrupted in their penance;
Like advice given gratis
When you want for nothing
And you pretend everything
You've got is your due;
Like invoking fate
To gloss over
The pain of caste
Colour, disease or death;
Like breaking confidences
Making sure that others
Know when others fall
Like a letter
With the wrong address
Coming back to you.

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