A letter to my Ex
One last word my dear,
I will not ask how you are.
It is already clear
you and I are
not made for each other.
You saw the stars and the sky
in my eye(s) ,
all beautiful and bright
in the soft moonlight
and I laughed with delight.
I followed you like a puppy.
We were so happy
and knew no strife.
Then she came into your life,
a prospective rich wife.
It is now clear
like a bottle of mineral water,
love, to you, is not any star or sky
but sensex soaring high
or the bank notes bringing glitter to your eye(s) .
I will not remind you of your vows
to hold my hand always.
We are now miles apart.
Yet in retrospect
I have no regret.
I do not have any desire
to be another pyre,
a sacrificial goat at the altar
of your lust for money and power.
I am well off without your mercenary love my dear.
(sensex, is a free-float market capitalization-weighted stock
market index of companies listed on Bombay Stock Exchange, India.)
Aimanu Begum's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (A letter to my Ex by Aimanu Begum )
- The Occident's Secession, michael walkerjohn
- One's Mind, michael walkerjohn
- Mind's Refuse, michael walkerjohn
- 6 is truly 9, michael walkerjohn
- Flowers!, rajendran muthiah
- Never feel alone, hasmukh amathalal
- Last Words Played, michael walkerjohn
- Death is certain, hasmukh amathalal
- The Little Men, michael walkerjohn
- Furthest Right, michael walkerjohn
Poem of the Day
- The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
- If You Forget Me, Pablo Neruda
- If, Rudyard Kipling
- Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
- Fire and Ice, Robert Frost
- Phenomenal Woman, Maya Angelou
- Annabel Lee, Edgar Allan Poe
- No Man Is An Island, John Donne
- Invictus, William Ernest Henley
- Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night, Dylan Thomas
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
- Heather Burns
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
Percy Bysshe Shelley