The Whisper Of Pots Poem by ABISH K MANUEL

Drops of sweat form these……
The brownish Earth blooms as these
The lamp of sky makes bold these
Free till those eyes see these

The time those see, work is need
Fill these with those drops for deed
The need to give those drops for a shape
And to fear that at wilder ape

How they can see my unmoistured tears
Thinking the time, they will tear
I make them cool when they get mad
Even they crack me uselessly making everyone sad.