This is not a poem.
I warn you again,
Leave this place called poem,
And wander away to the real world.
For this is not a poem.
Its not a poem,
Neither a prose with each full-stop,
Nor a story with each comma,
Not a sigh with each exclamation!
Poems are paper thin hearts,
They only give and take all that hurts,
Happiness a coincidence in a poem,
Most of the poems make us cry.
This is not a poem,
Even if you see the structure of lines,
For what I said was about a poem,
Not a poem.
And you still read it,
See, appearances are designed,
In poems, innocent like a child,
But like Krishna, you find,
The whole universe into its mouth!
Poems won't apply medicine to your wounds,
It will rip them open again as memories,
Like Holmsey of All The Way Turtles Down.
And it would scratch with desires of love,
And then blood drips into the paper as ink,
And that's how a poem is made.
~ ©Sourishree Ghosh