POET'S GRIEF

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All about the sad thoughts of a Poet.

A dull and cold evening,
Didn’t make any change in my witted thoughts,
I just arrived here, a lonely bridge,
To write something like a verse; that
Home, the first prison for a fantast
Where the feel, as sharp and horrible
Oh! God I wish to bring wings on my thoughts
To fly and enjoy through the lonesome sky.

Every moment has enslaved me,
Flustered shouts of drunkards,
Songs from the offered pyre,
That break the ears as vague dirges,
Even the hard silence of evening learners ,
Yet little bird’s melodious whistling,
The only console to my heart.

Tips of palm in this dark,
Bring image of huge flowers,
Small fishes tickle the glassy surface,
Growing circle form in water;
I know not the reason,
Mind is melancholy and also
Creates shaded circles in my head
Oh! The moments of solitude, I saved
The moment after, I can't explain and just 
Started my way behind
The first soul in my small village.

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