a lie or a gold smith tell
the truth, the thing rather
I shall believe that a liar is
an excellent word-smith,
though I am a great liar
but a lesser poet, what a
logic! Keep secret the
secrets, do not open the
box you can not tolerate,
in the name of truth people
engaged in trade to sell the
sugar coated words keeping
hate in the heart
Or just a frame with bone and fleshBut that is not me with a head.In that head I contain somethingAnd occasionally I bring that forthYou may know the man by nameBut you know not my intrinsic worth.Essence of life to one may be many a thingBut insinuation of my existence is intellectIntelligence counts and counts…
Are doing in the dim corner of the cabin ‘Husband replied, ‘ they are doing that inexchange of money ‘ wife at this said‘ we used to do that, too, in the field ofJute, totally free!
but for whiletake a breakand becomean editorat least of an online magazinehope,it does not improveyour writingbut I will be found commentingon your every poemon an understandingmine will get published.
Or hang me on 29th FebruaryIf you are a deserving oppressorPeople will not get each yearA martyr day to observeYou will not have to buy me giftAnd a marriage anniversary to celebrate
Looking somewhere elseA step I come forwardAnd trying to look into his eyesBut from me he turns away his sightI come closer to look into his eyesThis time he raises his voiceBut closes his eyesAs he knowsHe is telling lies.
I know so little.
