Do not open your heart
Whose job is to play a game
Do not give your poem
To people who can not write even a quatrain
But become experts in throwing words
In a chat or at a tea stall
But when asked
To say something in black and white
Then they go completely to be an idiot.
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Before the game
After the gameIs the prize ceremonyDo you dare to claim to be a playerWithout playing?The word is a stageLife is a gameThose are the very old sayingsDo not sit with meFace to faceSlough your idlenessMind your useless indulgenceAll aroundThe taste of sweet breezeThe sunLove and warmth from the eastBirdsBuzzing, chirping left their nestBees are busySinging…
Stop being causes and stop going deep
i protect the tree from stormi give it an identity.
Some of my friends who later turned enemies
And let not the theme of your poems only be concerning usGlobal issues are dealt by the global poetsHere lowly people live; they eat low, talk lowTotally mean people, they don’t talk what they meanWhat they mean they don’t speak out, such meanly low,For the time being i thought they are not wrongBut later like…
Now I feel nausea
Around me all are getting goldBut I am here rotting.I too could have climbedA tree, a rock of rare heightBut it was the witch who told me thatI did not have iron wingsBut I see men of nothingGrin with flashing white teethChuckle and smile looking at meNow I imagineDespair is the culprit whoDesisted me from…
Breaking sound is heard
a crow flew awaywhat lousy coincidence!the man untertreatment died
This despair will be pushed into the past
Definitely tomorrow, today will be yesterdayOne day hopefully tomorrow will be todayThe past surely was the future one dayDefinitely tomorrow the present will be pastOne day hopefully the future will be my present