I walk through the narrow streets,
Smiling at the passing clouds,
With a bloody heart that beats,
Drinking all those wistful sounds,
Made by the watchful hound,
Tearing through the covert arras,
Stretching my measly hand,
In hope of feeling the caress,
Of the freedom to do what I love,
Despite being the epitome of beauty.
-Devimanju Mohan
YOU ARE READING
What Do I Think?
PoetryHi friends...This is my first book. But this is not a book,Haha because this is a compilation of my poems and thoughts which I have written when I felt bored or inspired. This book contains my English poems while the other book in my profile has my...
