Poem: The Little Voice


The Little Voice

A poem by Navishkar Ram

Photo by Vijay Sadasivuni from Pexels


Every breath is like swallowing razors.

Each gulp tears,

Rips and gashes.

Each word winds its way down

Deep into the pit of your stomach.

Makes a home there and rests.

Walking out your door,

You tremble, nervous as you observe

The eyes of the world

Of your neighbours,

Your friends and strangers

Unclothe you from head to toe.

Scratches begin forming.

Your throat tightens

The razor speaks

He is an evil –

Insidious creature.

He doubts you

You listen.

You believe.

Until nothing in this world is ever true anymore

To you

Your wishes

They are lost.

Your truth becomes a drop in the ocean of tears-

That you, yourself have created.

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