What is that crack on the face?
A burrow?
Rather a sneaky trench.
You call it a smile?!
I know
That is amiability.
But why don’t your eyes keep quiet?
Discipline them
Or they get out of control
Why not tear them out?
Throw them on the rocks
So that they would never sprout
They are to die with this century.

  • 1992
- Nanditha didn’t name this poem.