Sometimes
About this time,
Looking at the skyline,
I wonder
Who actually chose what?
I poetry?
Or poetry me?
Sometimes about this time,
Looking at the sky,
I wonder,
Who actually wrote what?
I poetry?
Or poetry me?
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
The State Funeral
At least they have given her The State Funeral With tongue cut, She could not have spoken for The rare award, The police have done the th...
-
That boat of Madhu the boatman Is left tied at the ghat of Rajganj No one is taking it As it is filled with jute raw; If they would give... -
What a Sunshine You bestow On the plains of the city, Still moving slow, What a Sky You like a cover spread On my heart by hours of li...
-
Evening Traveling non stop, This lullaby like You as come, On Your bosom weary me wishes to lie... As if a Brahms Casting a shadowy co...
No comments:
Post a Comment