Busy With Money-game
Stillness is gathering around,
The music is not heard.
I can not see the morning light
At my house's back yard.
The green trees are grey now,
I don't look at the sky.
The shadow of my afternoon,
Have become high and high!
The dear faces of neighbors,
Are not seen anymore.
I want to ask about them all,
But fail to reach their door!
I don't listen to cuckoo's song,
It's mixed with traffic horns.
I can't understand all these faults,
My childhood often mourns!
I loved my cats and cute kittens,
And wished to live with them.
Now-a-days I can not care as,
Busy with money game!
Nilakshi Das
Submitted: Thursday, April 05,2012
Edited: Thursday, April 05,2012
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poem by Nilakshi Das
Added by Poetry Lover
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