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the Journey of my mind

I cannot write poetry . However,what I write, I cannot call it prose. Whenever I've shown it to someone they said it was poetry. You read and decide then let me know



Sunday, 26 February 2017

Moments: 3

The car halts.
My eyes are closed.

A rap and a tap.
I open my eyes.

Kholed  Eyes,
Lipsticked lips smile.
Dazzling earrings,
Sequenced sari.
Neatly parted oiled ,plaited hair.

I look at the rough, dirty,asking hands.
What a pity!
A transgender
Begging for money.

I close my eyes.
The rap becomes a clap.
The tap becomes a smack.
The car moves on.
 I hear a mocking song.

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