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In a World of Counter Creation
Just a prick
Less than an ant’s sting
In its intensity
There you lie
Your body turned into
A piece of seasoned wood
It gets sawed
It gets stitched
The way needed to re-fix it like
A piece of designer-furniture
In unique patterns
And
There they’re
A beaming smile
In walking white
Service at heart
Compassion on lips
Always on their feet
As quick as a thrush
As agile as a gymnast
Fingers defter than a musician
On the instrument
Care in every touch
Every sigh of pain
Matched by a comforting smile…
Nobody should ever wish
Even to take a peek into this world
But once in it
Have faith you’re in safe hands…
25aug2010
10.50hrs
poem
by
Indira Babbellapati
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