Treasure Island

Pradip Chattopadhyay

(28.01.1961 / Kolkata)

Laugh Maker


I’m nothing more
Than a bore
As all my stuff
Are shitfully sad
Can’t make you laugh.

I’m just a plain bore
For almost always
I knock your door
With a mourning face
Not finding laughter’s address.

I wish I could write stuff
To make you rollingly laugh
Belly ripping laughs
Choked in coughs
Yet never enough.

I’m a bore
A failure
Time and again
Only sketching sadness
Pity
Deformity
Never giving you a laughing recess.

Submitted: Wednesday, October 02, 2013
Edited: Wednesday, October 02, 2013

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (Laugh Maker by Pradip Chattopadhyay )

Enter the verification code :

  • Lorraine Colon (10/3/2013 11:09:00 AM)

    I certainly hope this is not about yourself that you write. Your writings are always informative and entertaining. I'm sure we all have our places to go to if we want comedy. Always write what you feel - not what you think others are expecting from you. (Report) Reply

Read all 1 comments »

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  9. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  10. Invictus
    William Ernest Henley

New Poems

  1. The Rifle, Konstantin Vanshenkin
  2. Snow, Konstantin Vanshenkin
  3. Similar, Edgar Albert Guest
  4. The Kindergarten Miss, Edgar Albert Guest
  5. They're False...., Konstantin Vanshenkin
  6. We Just Remember..., Konstantin Vanshenkin
  7. The Average Man, Edgar Albert Guest
  8. The Homes Of Joy, Edgar Albert Guest
  9. Getting Her A Valentine, Edgar Albert Guest
  10. Jimmy, Edgar Albert Guest

Poem of the Day

poet Henry David Thoreau

My books I'd fain cast off, I cannot read,
'Twixt every page my thoughts go stray at large
Down in the meadow, where is richer feed,
And will not mind to hit their proper targe.
...... Read complete »

   
[Hata Bildir]