Poem Of The Day 3rd April 2013
I have often wondered,
what is it to be a poor?
An empty vault, a broken heart,
or my complacency to remain at the shore?
Is it the lack of what I could've got?
Or is it the consequent melancholy that follows life?
Or is it to see some other folks, rich?
Or my desire less glory that bestows life?
Is it a queen which can never leave you?
Or is it the city's unpaid whore?
Or is it the nothingness where you could find,
the infinite glory in being a poor? ?
By - Bijay Poudel
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