An evocative poem, by Suchismita, on the eve of Valentine’s Day, as Special Feature, exclusively for Different Truths. 

Looking upside down vacantly
I found the sky turning red from soothing blue.
The love of an innocent bird hasn’t failed,
It has almost reached the small nest of her little offspring;
But the hurry in humans feels like a speedy train.
Hopeless sighs disturb each & every mind in all the public transports.
Everyone is allergic to think & prioritise the smallest change,
The smallest details or, the tiniest beauty of anything,
But again, falling for the plastic outlet of the materialistic world.
‘Red’ isn’t a hoax, when I still find the teenager girl, 
Selling ‘love’ in the name of scarlet roses,
Hope is dripping from her eyes to save hunger.
But all of us couldn’t see the urge 
As we are bandaged by the needs only.
We need flowers on Valentine’s Day whereas 
She needs ‘Valentine’s Day’ each day in a year!
‘Red’ isn’t a hoax when the stressed boy,
Gave the last rib-twisting hug to his painting, 
Before a mourning death out of endless pain.
Nobody witnessed how much he was blood-painted
When he sucked all the bullies for his studies.
‘Red’ isn't a hoax as the city gulps all the vices,
In broad daylight with a hung face of shame.
Wasn’t there any blood where two buds fought 
To win the trophy of ‘survival of the fittest’
And showed the foolish drama in the name of religion?
Humans are emotional and mostly cry-babies, but all in a theatre,
Only for a span of three hours, some bucks of showtime 
And a bowl of popcorn,
They hate taking actions when needed in real-life,
And ‘Red-alert’ situations never prove ‘Red’ as a hoax.
I found the sky turning as drops of blood just now,
And others will pass a sarcastic laugh and march past.
But truth has never been leashed for a long time,
Cyclones of time have collapsed the giant palaces of lies,
And dismissed each pieces of pebbles in dust,
I love it when days, years, decades, and ages,
Have consequently revealed the truth,
And the most intense truth I’ve just captured, 
Is nothing but ‘Red’ isn’t a hoax.
Neither was yesterday nor is today,
There is ‘love’ in red, 
But ‘Red’ is more than just a significance of love.

Visual by Different Truths

Suchismita Ghoshal

Suchismita Ghoshal from West Bengal, India is a professional writer, poet, published author, storyteller, content writer, book critic and columnist. She has co-authored for more than 140 anthologies, journals, magazines both from national and international arena. Her debut poetry book “Fields of Sonnet” has been launched in September 2019.