To Prose, Say Goodbye!
written by: Ujjal Mandal
Sometimes life feels insipid,
like a meal cooked in a hurry—
no spice, no warmth, nothing to hold on to.
Maybe that’s when we get stuck
inside the straight lines of prose.
Sometimes life tastes heavenly
as the nectar of god in the paradise—
sweetness, fragrance, vitality, purity,
radiance all wisely compacted.
Yes, a poem is the nectar;
It slips into the heart quietly.
And for a moment,
we forget the noise, the weight—
we remember we’re alive.
Prose fills the stage of the universe
with the curtain fallen,
characters talking without words,
no emotion, no variety, darkness prevailed.
Those who love the fragile beginning of a verse
know how a single line can open a door.
Poetry grows like the way trees do—
not all at once, but constancy;
It bends with its own fruit,
it pleases, it heals,
and somehow becomes sweeter.
It is kindness in thought and diction—
a small drop of honey
that keeps the wandering heart from leaving.
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