The man has only two shirts.
Or may be more.
One he wears for the society
one is his motley coat
He flaunts the former
and talks about it
every time in that shirt
his performance is a hit
But deep inside
in his heart
he finds it uncomfortable
the beautiful shirt
He loved it
when he bought it
It made him what he is
it proved it's worth to be flaunted
and yet
when he is not performing
when he sits inside
in his personal time
he takes out the other shirt
and wears it all full of love
It gives him comfort and a warm delight
it makes him forget every fit every fight
but he knows he can't flaunt it
for the shirt is for comfort
not to be flaunted
He tries to wear the second inside at times
but the former is made
to be worn
with nothing inside
that's how the special clothes are
you see the ones
which are branded
which are tagged
with social pyramid
At night at times
when the man
removes it all
every shread of cloth
every hankered stall
He feels lonely
he feels alone
He feels scared
of the judgement
and social lore
but he is an efficient man
He knows how to maintain
both roots and stem
He cleans both shirts
one at a time
He sprays perfumes
on both in same rhyme
But then he wears them
the way they are supposed to be worn
Where registered is authentic
rest all is imagined core.
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