Poetry Eng 57
Wednesday, September 19, 2012
Pen without ink
On a blank sheet
How to write
When the first rain
Drops to the blank sheet
As the cloud came
Like black ink
The ink has always fallen
To destroy the art
I am always try to close to my family
Like as my heart beat
But always far ahead from me
Whatever happened in past
But it’s come again
No comments:
Post a Comment
Newer Post
Home
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment