Perfectly rhymed
Father said
It is not a poem
I changed course
Next few
I wrote
Without rhyme
Father said
It’s a prose
What’s makes a poem
I was in deep thought
And wrote on
Some truths
Like birth and death
‘’These smells
Like gospels
Poem is like foliage
Of your heart
Yellow
Falls on your page
With a sweet sound
Of music on the ground’’
He said.
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