Less Poem by Procyon Mukherjee

Less than hundred square feet

A space that is marked for you

And your living is marked with

Unkempt linen, tubs around, clothes

For changing that you would be needing less

And less, tidbits that never crossed your mind

Could turn into silent privilege


You will be half awake to your surroundings

And with eyes filled with eye's water

You will see what you saw before

The image will be stronger in your mind

Than the eyes can say


You will believe nothing

No man can be dear anymore

No visitor to your craving

You will move from one sleep to the other

Resting between them


The living will be going by

With some idle talk you never could discern

You were just about waking up to the sound

You were about to avoid

The silence will remain assurance

To everything you embrace now