Sunday Poem By The Pheasant of Joy(Vasu)
Upbeat
You might not see the morning
You might not wail for late rise
People hardly know you rise late
People hardly growl your bumming
You might have thought you can’t
You might have grimaced calmness
Fresh morn’s tender palfrey gnaws
Masked faces pass away sans sound
Falls do not dent the universe usually
But sure they leave you debilitating
You sadly gaze on the onerous activity
Mutter your inability to tryst the morn
With invigorating upbeat and will power
Could only salvage you from drooping
Chinning up is a gateway to building
A robust day given your unfailing joy.
ফেসবুক দিয়ে আপনার মন্তব্য করুন
