Search Poem by Ahsan Habib

Search

Rating: 2.7


'Halt', thunders the demon, Death, and stands in front,
His hairy, rough hands find their way into the pants' pockets,
Fish out a few coins, two flowers, a reel of thread.
The heavy hands now search the loins. No, nothing is there.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Ahsan Habib

Ahsan Habib

Pirojpur / Bangladesh
Close
Error Success