A Single Moan
I am restless, humdrum
And florid.
So I see the Jhelum River,
Hankering for tranquil scene
And breathe.
But I moaned!
The river Shrinks into the blood.
Fishes are battered into mud.
Some 'Mug Heads' try to
Catch them and sell.
I back home.
A bad ' hair day gone.
It is superfluous.
Am I lampooned?
👁 4💬 0
Something wrong with this poem?
Replies are closed for this poem.
Your Poem's Voice
See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.
Comments (0)
No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.
Log in to leave a comment.