I feel the conspicuous quandary of clothes, <br />Worn by lifeless forms or stacked on dumb shelves, <br />Also the agony of strangled scarves all in a hodgepodge, <br />Color coded or canny collages in congregation, <br />Gingerly guarding their guise of gaiety, <br />Addle wrapped up neatly in their folds, <br />From the prying eyes and rude hands of mobs, <br />While the music adds on cheer to the desolate malls. <br />And I feel the disorder raging in the walls, <br />The plastered White calm cracking in quiet corners, <br />Invisible misery lurking around the festive displays, <br />Sullying the merchandise with a fine layer of Grey, <br />As people beam over hills of bewildered mass production.<br /><br />Dia Chatterjee<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/addle/
