Clothes and not a breadth for a hair,
All jumbled up and packed up
Like my emotions caught in a snare;
You say they are old, there isn't anything new
And I point to one that may doll me out of the blues
For a new beginning, just like the new me,
All but for one my clothes seek a release;
I know it's the same old stories, same old tales
Out of rigidity through smiles and wails;
There's something noble in the routine
Just like the clothes we wear chasing the greens.
-- Doel Sengupta
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