To My Dads Compliment On Face Book - Poem by Hardik Vaidya
Show me one poet who does not write from heart.
Show me one poem not beating alive.
Life when trapped in its motion,
When she is just about to bathe,
In her own self,
With no one between her,
But she and her self,
Is a poem, no great no less.
Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about To My Dads Compliment On Face Book by Hardik Vaidya
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.