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by Aleeza
Rated: E · Poetry · Personal · #2075061
Poem narrates a poor man standing in a queue waiting so his suffering can be heard.
And here I'm
Waiting in a queue,
Taking every breath carefully
So it won't hurt the last hope of my survival.
Strangers passing by
While people in queue waits,
So their sufferings can be heard.
Neither I nor they know what damage has done to the homes we live in,
This poor night seems so long
Oh God!! No medicine will heal me today.
Let me accept the pain or get accepted by pain.
ALEEZA

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