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Disguised behind a plastic
carnival masque, life
can’t be more than a
masquerade, a mere
facade of jarring humour
labeled a tragedy for few
intellectuals who shed
crude tears on the transient,
Slapstic miracles for those
godly beings, may be a
loaf of bread for the beggar
on the cobbled pavement
a dying sigh proclaims a lover,
Life for me a hellish suffering I
try to endure while evoking
sensless laughters , lament
sob and much more through
the hours of midnight, a vision
of nude Venus drenched in downpour
haunts me, may be life is no mystery
it is a carnival of emotions, a
clownish masquerade celebrated
in cheap Italian movies.