From birth till now
When I sleep and wake up
Walking or jumping
I come across faces
Most are innocent
Others are frightening
While others grows not
Most are cosmetically different
While few are eye catching
I saw many speeches or unsung songs
Well captivated on dry wrangles
I saw hatred in some faces
The bitterness of ages
The grudge held against
The already gone souls
Yes faces are a good ostentation
The good device to cover evil blots
The wall before the truth
The deepest oceans of lies
Forest of back biters
What a miracle
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem