Treasure Island

Hardik Vaidya

(26 Dec 1969, I won't be dead till you know I am alive. / Mahuva, Gujarat, India.)

Mans tongue.


All of us speak our Mothers tounge.
A question has bugged me,
Like a determined bed bug.
What about the Fathers Tounge?
Every father had a mother dumbo,
He speaketh his mothers tounge.
Then what about a man's tounge?
It exists for sure,
But it speaks a strange lore.
Silent, like the flowers in bloom,
Proud like the wind cold and pruned,
It forces it self through his eyes,
You need to be a godess to hear it right,
And allow it to drip through your eyes.

Submitted: Saturday, March 09, 2013
Listen to this poem:

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

What do you think this poem is about?



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 (Mans tongue. by Hardik Vaidya )

Enter the verification code :

Read all 1 comments »
[Hata Bildir]