Saturday, 5 October 2013

SELF-DECEPTION

The withering tree lying to itself 
The leaves know its self-deception 
But their tongue is dried up 
They no longer utter meaningful words
Except whispering  through cracking  bones  .
The trunk  is most deceived 
It holds its hope still green 
Entrenched in clogged soil.
A life of illusions 
Encouraged by a line of ants 
Witnessed by a crippled grasshopper. 
In my child hood 
I used to clean my teeth with its twig .
Its gum has thickened my blood .
Now 
We resemble each other 

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