Dissimilar - Poem by BONGOKOBIDA ZAKARIA
Where the crowd oven flows than the act of accepting-
There must have deficit of something
The crow lives in rotten- ill smelling dirty place
Why are you at the side of dustbin?
Source of electricity at the front of eye-
Yet you live with darkness
You have made to create- but what are you doing?
Comments about Dissimilar by BONGOKOBIDA ZAKARIA
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.