As a poet
Like
Countless
Writers
I'm writing
Scripts empty
Mustering dust
On library
Book-shelves
Burdened
Under the layers
Of dust powder
On the covers
Untouched
Un-approached
That
A scrape paper
Rolling
Into the dustbin.
A lot
Not even
Criticized
Un-honoured
Unrewarded
Lost into
Unreachable
Depth
Unnoticed.
A few
Still-
Unlike me
I salute
Distinguished
Loved-ones
Recited
Every time
Time and again
For idealistic
Quality
High opinion
Immortalized
Occupying
A significant
Place
In big libraries
Of the world
The hearts
And minds
Of the people.
Commanding
Status-
Becoming
Beauty
Of lips
Sweetness
Of tongues
Kindness
Of hearts
Reigning
Over the minds
As poets
I love so deep.
-Copyright © hrsharma ®2015
Ludhiana, Punjab, India.
Poet there is prosperity of outer side of mind and enter into to pure tomb of inner side of knowledge
Really a poignant poem depicting the essence and intricacies of poets' art, well articulated and insightfully brought forth with conviction. Well thought out and brilliantly crafted. Thanks for sharing Hans.
Simply beautiful............! Thanks for sharing.10 points.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A poet writes countless writing. Very amazing poem shared really.10