Posted in life

The Drunken Clown

A few pegs later, starts his drama,

Weeping and confronting his wife,

Promising heaven and moon,

His true inner self emerges out.

His addiction turns him a clown,

Talking nonsense, often is funny,

Yet childish with the tantrums,

Shouting on the top of his voice.

The next day, I see him, refined,

Of no trace of the clown in him,

Clad in work attire, elegant,

Clean shaven , hurrying to office.

Kavitha Patchamalai

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