On a hillock by the
stream,
Sits a girl, quiet
and beautiful,
Her skin is as fair
as cream,
Her virtual touch
is soothing cool,
She doesn’t let me
come near,
And rather jumps
into the stream,
No, she has none of
the fears,
Still she doesn’t
come in dreams,
I am in a sorry
state,
Help me oh dear God
above,
Why am I in such a
fate?
Why all that I lack
is love?
The girl, who is
happiness,
Is not in my real
life,
Why I have no
happiness?
Why all that’s mine
is strife?
From My Poems: Twenty Ten
No comments:
Post a Comment