Spirit etched away by a caustic silence, gradually over all these years
Helpless heart, inside which grew a hideous giant fuelled by my tears;
A whip he had and a command I had to obey – to carry all around
a heavy bag containing a fake smile, a lustrous mask, and a shiny hood;
Actor I am, and the world was stage! I fooled myself with laughter abound
This time off-stage, had I a script, painful, smeared with my disgraceful blood.
Torn sail and a shattering vessel, had to cross thunders and storms difficult!
Thought this is just a ‘phase’, Scared and scarred, will be ’normal’ someday..
Not happening! Can I be wired a choice? – Tossed into a tumult,
Hungry sharks around, shouted I mutely ‘Mayday, Mayday’..
Enough of this deceitful routine; I wished to cease and sublime to a serene sky…
Clouded by despair, oh dear life, this is an eternal battle and you just can’t die!
In the world too main-stream, I want to come out from the salty trough,
buoy up all the way and reach the sky; I want to be myself and I realize, I’m a star!
Queer I am; still a friend so pure; an ally and not an alien.
Want to love, be loved and how can this be heinous, a crime or a sin?
So natural are I and my love, as much of a new-born child, with a smile, charm and warm,
An innocence, which wouldn’t cause you an iota of harm!
With a reckless bar and folly’s spade, a crippled swan I’m, disrupted in a cage of rage.
For some dawn, I would rise, fly and color the horizon with my spectral plumage.
- Poem: Closets are for Clothes - January 30, 2017