Based on a fb prompt :

A poem or a prose ending with “the first cut is the deepest of all”

A prose has also been written and will be posted as a separate post.


Cuts leave impressions indelible.

Cuts of childhood,
falling and rising
like phases of the moon
waning and waxing
in naive wisdom.

Cuts of marriage
like a double-edged knife
blended in one bliss
“We” emerging from
melted egos.

Cuts of old age,
faded memories
blurred hues,
ignominy of abandonment
yet the innocence
of child again.

Cuts leave impressions indelible ;
some intelligible,
some as scars teaching lessons,
mould us
fold us
papers of final print
undergone all edits.
But like impressions,
first cuts are the deepest cuts.

Copyrights @Brindha Vinodh

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