A Poem of Thoughts as the Evening Faded: III

Huddled we sit
In this universe
Not really knowing
One another

When the baser instincts
Dance shamelessly
We take part
In the performance...

Don't we all live
In the same glass-house
Don't we all dance
On the same fragile stage?

Don't we,
Don't we...?

(08 Aug 2011)

poem by Indira Babbellapati
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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