The Opening Up Of Copper
Urn
Could be deforestation is going
on:
The flat promoters in frenzied
mood,
Occupied the land, rituals are
over.
Digging, digging, they went on
digging,
Small rudimentary stones, mud pieces,
Clay roll over
and over, the sweat
Of the labourers also
touches the
Weeping ,disturbed soil, to be
dethroned to a
corner . The sharp
Crow bar hit my
rust laden sides,
I am bemused, pained,
The eager , the future ,proud occupants
Of the storied mansion ,
do not know the
underground
Secrets, the toils, the rigmarole
:
It was some
decades ago,
The owner , lay me in,
Hard breath, or struggling
for breath,
Rust envied me, covering the
Copper colour, inches of
thick
Rust and coating ,belittling
My dignity, Coins are safe
In my
womb, tomorrow
they are going to
hand me over
to Government,
do not know how my
New abode would be.
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