Sweet Bitter
You have seen the face
painted with the color of darkness
some inches down the neck
there is a hole
it pains you know
it pains
the pain of memory
the pain of craving
but there is a pain
which doesn't pain bitterly
it is sweet
this pain is born from that sorrow
which once
sung by me
heard by me
understood only by me
poem by Jyotishman Debnath
Added by Poetry Lover
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