On this canvas,
I wish to paint a life -
the thin line between rich and poor -
which wakes up in rope purple,
hurries up the escalator
flanked by butter and bread
yet to sink mid-way up,
into a gaping abyss
roamed by dread toothed like American tarantula
that clips life of its wings
and left to rot under blasting dearth.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
the thin line between rich and poor - which wakes up in rope purple, /// excellent expression; thought provoking
Thanks Mahtab.