A WALK IN THE BRAMBLE
Thought it was just some days,
To cut those grasses and make hays,
Took millions of days,
To mould my golden pot with clays.
A walk in the bamboos,
Tears in the jungles,
Surrounded with brambles,
Created in our mind, strange tramples.
Tears of voiceless voices,
Echoes of silent noices,
Tones of unread messages,
Tear the lonely heart into pieces.
Marks of the thorny leaves,
Kisses of the hungry bees,
In the jungle of angry trees,
Teach us what life is.
👁 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.