The Gripe Poem by Sunny Chopra
The Gripe
In the days of despondent crises
none recalls who stood beside
I traversed my forlorn moments
sans any aid or another to guide
How quickly shattered illusion
I naively had come to form
It's forever about giving
to take an unacceptable norm
The point is that of no return
on threshold of an impulsive instinct
One removing me from mediocrity
to a persona inversely distinct
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/4/2024 4:57:56 AM # 1.0.0.1119
