only if we can choose
what makes us happy
given our own kind of
logic
we should have been
truly happy
ahh, but this heart
has a mind of its own
by which our logic
sometimes says
illogical
ahh, but this heart lives
in a world of its own
there is always a compulsion
to be there
helpless feathers are we
tossed and fallen
on those seasons of our
reckoning
ahh, the moments are
worth the remembering
but how can we speak about
it to
our friends?
like the way your frown on them
so shall they frown on you
in that party of silence
all of your shall feast
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem