The Stranger

The Stranger

The motionless blue shallows of the brook
The deafening silence of the jungle here,
Makes you look into your heart in despair,
The pangs of always being an outsider,
Haunts and fragments you as ever.


Tell me why this is so for some,
Who always stand alone, uninvited
And undesirable everywhere , fret
Avoid, hate and punish themselves.


What is it that will make you
And me forget, all the refusals
That came our way in grey colors,
And how the shame of the rat race
Forced us to be hopeless intellectuals.


To ponder and recreate again the mess,
Fleeing and muttering to ourselves -
Difficult friend, to keep the pace,
A matter of conjecture and guess.


The silence, the innocence here,
The bleeding heart of our dreams
Tries to pollute the clear stream.
Awkwardly I watch the water gleam
Do all these sound to you familiar?

© SOMNATH MITRA 2010