who knows more than you that life is not a poem at all as you have been exposed to practically cross cultures or say civilizations of the world but still I am writing a poem for you may be that is my own way of remaining relevant as seriously telling you no one simply can imagine the hell I have lived and probably you will come to change this hell to normal life at least.
broken pieces
I search every eve
how to get it
make a shape
some of your heart
some of mine one
I dont know
whom so ever
I happened to have
some moments
of daffodils
why
it were so ephemeral
I have search hard
broken pieces
I search every eve
how to get it
make a shape
some of your heart
some of mine one
I dont know
whom so ever
I happened to have
some moments
of daffodils
why
it were so ephemeral
I have search hard


