Behind A Door

Behind A Door prose poem

Photo by Liz Henry


The circus of life
runs behind a door.
We sway in trapeze,
fall on a safety net,
balance the cycle of events
and drive a car in closed globe.

In real world
the show always runs in a tent,
cash counters feed all toilers,
time gallops with tune and rhythm.

If we look behind a door
circus of life turn into still photograph.
We believe in white privacy
and world honors the sentiment.

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Sumit Ganguly

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Brought up at the lap of nature, traveled around thousand miles for bread and butter but finally returned to poetry, my boyhood love.
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