//Death//

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  • Death

    //Death//

    Who says that I won’t die?

    Any day a mortuary van 
    can knock the door
     to roll a rumble wrapped with reddened white!

    Can I bet my eternity?
    If they bomb my country,
     my village and my house?
    Only photographs page a history.

    My long traveled friend’s sister
    Gave a ring at mid of the night
    And informed her brother passed away.
    I imagined my picture
    Carried by a few men to an isolation
    And returned to inhabitation 
    Declaring me useless.


    My grand child’s only daughter
    Liked the frame to
    Put her own
    Tore off the picture to 
    waste paper basket.

    I lost the last space.


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    Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

    abhash0’s Poems (41)

    Title Comments
    Title Comments
    // manifestation // 0
    //Let’s love// 0
    Dream 0
    a sound 0
    // Signature// 0
    //No more// 0
    // forever// 0
    //She// 0
    //Crawl// 0
    //The old man// 0
    //The Last song// 0
    //friend// 0
    //Bracket// 0
    // Mask2// 0
    //..shadow-3/
    /
    1
    // Mask-3// 0
    //Beyond// 0
    //Monsoon// 0
    //Shadow –II// 0
    // cadaver// 0
    //Identity// 0
    // leaf // 0
    //breath// 0
    //A song// 0
    // ma // 0
    //Death// 0
    //CRY// 1
    //Truth// 1
    //Room// 0
    //Words// 0
    //Shoes// 0
    //An Envelope// 0
    //Friend// 0
    Cylinder 0
    //face// 0
    //Plateau// 0
    //Night// 0
    // Memory// 1
    //Stories// 0
    Reflection 0
    Victory 2