The heart and mind rebelled
The tongue lashed me out
The eyes went out of my control
Though I did my things, covertly, along with them
As they were very close to me
And the most trusted friends of mine,
They did get the pleasure in full,
But one by one they left me in the lurch
Now my soul stood alone.
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Conflict – -between grand two
For its conviction –Mind for its value of motionWithout being in the picture –I get pleasure, plentiful.
Me (I wanted to write this one as simple and popular poetry, however, suggestions are welcome)
Though I am not born in a wonderful landBut when they start to searchThey findMyPower liesIn the renunciation of fear and greedAnd the most wonderful thingIs my heart and soulWhatever the landscape isIt is my lifeAnd I am the kingI often wonder from where I get so much joyThough I do not play with golden…
You talk to me too much-
Still I find you a squib damp dump.The gray matter remains nimble numb.Poet to poet, poetry to poetryYou praise and praise.Fragile domestic docile humble gullible-No question learn to raise.Neither spark nor sharp dole out dullDelight dashed whether you push or pull.
You do not fear
To have a hand over your headTelling all is well.
It is not bounded with any high wall
No restrictions do I have on my movementBut it works for me like a jailI eat, I sleepAnd when I get temptedI walk through the curl of lipsRun through the span of hipsI get reliefBut I could not come out of itI am chained in routine workLet alone satisfactionI am frustrated with the incensing demandAs…