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They steal, conspire and kill Climb piles of massacred bodies To educate the rest from the top on how Stealing, conspiring, killing, are such vile sins In their manicured hands, spotless clean white shirts, With those wide pious grins Oh! Those Pious men Lockdown Struggling to move my tired limbs, I swim in a dark molasses beside debris of Defunct clocks, lost appetites, unused outfits Rusted accessories, unworn shoes, unread books Shut shops, empty streets, famished dogs Blaring TV, tired eyes, lounge-wear piles Dull movies, unopened newspapers and stale air “It’s only afternoon yet” A familiar voice murmurs. Tired mind and heavy heart turn cheerleaders My limbs still ache MAD I would tell the therapist how I could only watch my sick mother Inch towards the Grim Reaper’s land quietly day after day How her frail limbs stroked me in fits of semi-consciousness How her chapped lips muttered my name in broken voice How I stitched my pieces each day to drag myself to college How I struggled to survive without any appetite every day Bunking with pals you would stand in corridor near his room Munching on wafers while mocking pains you didn’t have Sneering at my messy hair, dark-circles and swollen eyes Yes I know, with which three letter word your grins labeled me *In India, it is still very common to label the people who visit therapists/councilors as mentally disturbed or even mad. BIO: A writer and an artist, Ankita Sharma resides in India. She has authored five titles. Her poems and stories have been published in various anthologies and lit mags including 3moonmag, BRAG, Versification, Green Ink Poetry, Sunnyg (radio show) and others. Her artworks have appeared on the cover pages of a few Indian and international books. Her latest book is 'One Day in the life of Javed Khan', published by Ukiyoto Publishing, Canada, was released in November 2021. Instagram- ankita.s.26 Twitter- AnkitaSharma_26