Shirt is a
necessity of time.
A verbal tool in news hours
abruptly just after
a media rape in capital.
Trend is
the strategy
for its demand.
It is Just
her present to
cover me inside
as a green lover.
She enjoyed
conceited envy
not the ecstasy of use.
Eyes could read her sign
‘Don’t tell me how to dress
Tell them not to rape’
I never peep
in to her chest.
My body enjoys
enough freedom
under the shirt.
Everybody identifies
its color and stripe.
Half sleeves seldom
conceal sullied hands.
Good collars
proudly help
heads to stand upright.
Buttons are strings
to connect the shroud.
My shirt has
an exclusive
inner pocket on
left side to stack
secrets of my heart.