Connotation Drops
If looking to make a little mistake
I have come to you
Do not ask me why I am so
We had met on the
other end of this song also...
The moment of which some memory and
some forgetting were weaved
And now all over we are in a tune
played on the festival of strangers,
If it is there, do not ask me of its beginning
Do not ask me of birth
in which way I am...
For death I have seen and my birth is many
I do not have long words to tell you
of my stories
of escapes and chase
inside the caves of the heart
in a dropp and a sea
a moment and an age
blend together and turn into a company
that is why night is young, always.
If my sorrows are caressed by unseen thoughts
If my tears are theft by the traps styled by my own self
[...] Read more
poem by Aman Saa
Added by Poetry Lover
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