Tuesday, May 26, 2009


The sketch of a woman,
inspite of paragon of colours,
is not like
that of a man.
A naughty smile
can bring a storm
and a drop of tear
can tear the greens,
and ablaze the forest.

Behind her silence
there remains
a lot of speeches
behind her quietness
peeps a thunderous desire .

Her image can create stir
in the serene pool,
difficult to explain
what constituents
made her so hot
and so cool.

some times she is moody
and some times off,
her scream
is far reaching
and her silence
is the fathomless
depth as like an ocean,
it`s because
she`s not like a man.


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