Through The Busy Lane... Poem by Raihana Abdul Jabbar
Through The Busy Lane...
Pacing through the busy lane,
Hauled me, The Sight, purely of anguish...
Muttering in her slumber, there lay,
On the squalid pavement,
A feeble lady of Ninety Nine....
Destitute, In solitude...
Her frizzled hair blown away by the zephyr,
From the scarred forehead...
I stared long upon her...
When the skinny, fragile frame of hers,
Stirred at the cyclist's bell....
Her eyes met mine, and her sunken face,
Recited, tales of her past...
Her protruding bones, narrated,
Hunger-stricken existence...
Her sombre eyes...Rendered me an insight...
Virtually a century of excruciation...
Laid, I, a shilling on her deformed metal plate...
And walked away, sinking among the busy lane...
Into a Hard-hearted busy life.....
Living in a past pace of life, as accdg to you, a busy lane... it makes heart harden and eyes blind to see others. The choice of ignoring others plight for the main concern only is thier own life to live...penned well here, thanks. a 10.
well written.....and the complicated words make this poem serious....good job!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/25/2024 11:36:55 AM # 1.0.0.1119
nicely you made it words of fire Hunger-stricken existence... Her sombre eyes...Rendered me an insight... Virtually a century of excruciation... Laid, I, a shilling on her deformed metal plate... And