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Do Not Stare At Me

Rating: 4.8
Do not stare at me from your window, lady
do not stare and wonder where I came from
Born in this city was I, lady,
hearing the beetles at six o'clock

and the noisy cocks in the morning
when your hands rumple the bed sheet
and night is locked up the wardrobe.
My hands are full of lines
like your breast with veins, lady -
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COMMENTS
Saadat Tahir 01 July 2009
hi martin...its very very nice...very deep and meaningful...done superbly i liked it vey much cheers and ten
2 0 Reply
Fabrizio Frosini 26 September 2015
pity Carter can't hear you.. Martin Carter (1927-1997)
0 0 Reply
Ashraful Musaddeq 25 May 2009
An excellent poem. Love with 10++
0 0 Reply

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