Why Cry?
In the clumsy room,
Was left a sick fellow,
In lament,
For the deeds,
Sedate numb,
Stumbled,
Down in isolation,
To master a judgement,
Drawn by himself,
The regret,
The success,
The efforts in vain,
The black sorrow,
Or the rejoice,
Never embrace,
In permanent,
All of this is pre-planned,
By our own thee...
poem by Vikrant Jog
Added by Poetry Lover
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