Cooum
Near the cinema
Stripping women
Of their souls
The river quietly breathes
Stoic like a saint
Though dying of the city's sins
On the bridge the harlot
Too weary to walk the streets
Stands staring at the waters
Mourning the river
She had lost in her hamlet
Where it skipped like a girl
Without a care
Frothing foaming giggling
Unlike the river here
Dying of the city's sins
poem by Prabhakar Subramaniam
Added by Poetry Lover
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