A tear for time

A present day in my journal,

Thoughts make me nocturnal.

Wounds are not enough internal,

Musings are not soft as caramel.

Satan is the hero of hell,

wish I could dwell in your heavens smell.

Stains, mood, and love are Gods gift,

I write, explore you to lift.

Respect in you is a unique figure,

Steady gardens also acknowledge a singer.

Tears in the morning grasses,

are crushed by the masses.

Masterpiece is not my cup,

Poems are even Wordsworth’s bluff.

Time is an alluring slut,

Questions start with what?

A tear smiled in the air,

You are a Chaucer, I can swear.

Love is for you, but my poem did not rhyme,

And a tear is shed for the time.

Nur Nazibur Rahman (c)


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