Choice

By Shreya Chaudhary

Men of dark men of wine

Thousands dozen of dopamine

Puff of cigar with eight rings

They are the eater wild man hunter

Zip goes up and I bend down

Marks my stary lucky sunny nights.

Men of culture men of policy

Sons of righteous, truth and justice

Speaking out their voices and for their right

Saving mother nature driving out crimes

Bow down their head and their mind

Waving their soul and goofing up skills.

Long narrow black roads path

Welcomes daily all men of potency

You buy happiness and we share bed

Lime chilly thread to keep us off their doors

We laugh and giggle cautiously

Our body lies in your second pumped heart

Our ties stays in your secret pocket chart

Who has the power to keep us off

Who stays stronger to keep us live.

Deep v cut bright stars blouse

Outlining those night share dream

Red shiffon in barren heads

White lillies on evergreen beds

Bead of last night I have wore

Still we wore threads of sluts

Yes a slut of your wild past night.

Black narrow path wrapped in heart

Wrapped in a city of stones and stacks

Mine was a love at first sight

A soft heart but stubborn mind

Pumped up the courage with a bag of respect

Left me home as a saint

Towards the road of moral right light.

Bamboo wretched roof top and some flies

Green tub with filthy green liquid eyes

Ailing father and hailing storm

With a sheer shaby worn out mother

She took my hand out of poverty home

I walk down this lane as her follower

Narrow waist and tough shoulder

Leaving behind that hungry night

To come in lane of darkest sunshine.

I was in a way with my darlings

Hopping all around the way and through them

Holding their hands in a mist of chaos

A touch of wave and we got lost

I was lost in the chaos

For now I hold a new hand

A man with long pocket loose zip

Sympathy chest teary drop eyes

I took him as my charger

And here now I stand as his charger.

Different moments with differing causes

Some with love and others with trick

But with same end and means

Now they hail from long dark night streets

Street with beads of twinkle lights

Packing them every now and then

You wanted bright twinkle future

Now you own twinkle heaps of lights

Giggling on me those men of light.

Those eyes are now robots

With no new dreams and wings

Dreams need nights and some hope

But here we have a dead morning and endless nights

More is better less is far

Starting was a cage and an injection of force

Now it is my need to want more.

Pump in blood and some curves

Draw out those curtains of hide and seek

Let them barge on you

Feelings was a misery loose old tie

Hold those hands with transparent stone eye.

How do you shed clothes in front of them, she asked

Hungry nights in glass watery room

Fill with cockroaches and mighty mice

Develop in me feelings towards cocks

Ease me in and out

Today seem more of preference not of fear

Yesterday was more young full of shameful nights.

Raw flesh an end to end touch

A moment of pleasure and heaven

Sigh of relief from a great pain

Knocking down a barren land

Enjoy this sweet and some fruits

We know you and your demands

Veil up the curtain

Move in the steering

Long nights strange women

Barren head and deserted family name

I push for name, power and fame

You are the dust

A dust of past

A dust of hunger

A dust of unspoken words

A dust of wild dreams.

A penny wise and a penny thought

Thin thick flavoured ring

A killer of men dreams

A murderer of raw beauty flesh touch

An absconded heavenly pleasure

A heap of green fatherly mint

A chase of black yellow tied beads

Laid out in shabby foil shed

With a packet of penny wise ring

What a joke, what a sham

A punch on face for a red bruise

I owe you for an hour

I command you sewing of lips.

Men of all colours men of all flavours

Men of all nights

Wanted a shed and a bride

Listens nothing but ease in and out

Wants nothing but theirs potency sound

A choice of ring a choice of veil

Kick and punches in on your face

You are a dirty slut a dirty pig

I am a class blue collar top high men

You doubt us and our purity

I called your high master your high command

Beat her up all night

Throw her in a salted chilly water

For she casted a shadow on God

For she raised her voice on our transfer.

By Shreya Chaudhary