Poem is not stringing of knotty lyric
Poem, a respite of a never-say-die mind..
Poem, not an equation of bed and break up
Poem, an Issue of exults and whims
Where flamboyance is truant
Where imposing of one is shunned
There live my poem..
Poem, not a spermatozoon for love genesis
Rather verbalism of giving up..
Not the royal coquetry
Not the war whoop
Severance of a soil mansion
Writes my poem.
Yes! My poem is not vermilion
Who will perish on someone’s absence
…this is anklet of that angel
Who will charm in its tinkling tune…
World forgets
But my poem remains witness
Once again to aver, remind and reprise
Last nights’ retention and flavor..
Gaucheness and thrill..
Touch and wounds…
innocently thought provoking :)
ReplyDeleteDon't know, whom, this penning touched? But thanks for commenting. Author had an impression that his writings will never be appreciated but hey! My anonymous friend you changed the perception…
ReplyDeleteThanks for encouraging.