Isn’t he tired?
He’s passing himself with,
A secret marriage
A secret wife, lover or prey
A secret child
Secret vows filed away
…
He thinks to himself,
As though has ‘never’, to be confronted,
All his illusions – an unhappiness
Secrets of his selfish happiness
When offered some sense,
Or dealt with caution, even then too,
He cuts cold all warmth,
All good remains thrown away
…
Suit him his lies, so truthfully belied
So jelled in his misery
All his confused and sudden
Wants, needs or desires entrap him
Blamed on someone else, every time
Or pleads to be gratified, every instance
Lazily just lazily,
His secret secrets,
From his own self, but kept away.
…
Got pulled from under his feet
Floor of his wrong statements, one by one
Neither questioned nor answered
Earlier overlooked, & later forsaken away
…
Though preferred &
All that’s needed-
Only some pure honesty & his own self-understanding
Then those sorry presents of deceit
He forgets
Indulging in indignity, himself and someone else -
His distraction, his convenience!
No morals hold sway…
When its all so obvious
Then why this guilty secrecy?
Poem is on Domestic Violence caused by cheating on one’s wife.
