My poor poem
Thou come and go
At least I think so
What happens then
I lift my pen
I write what I feel
I lose all my zeal
My poem is very sad
My tears tear the pad
They wash the poem away
Then you come one day
It happens once again
The pad has painful rain
How long it will go?
I surely don't know.
poem by Mohammad Akmal Nazir
Added by Poetry Lover
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