Grist Poem by Cyriac Maliakkal

Grist



I was on the ways of examine the
glorious attempts of talking
to my futuristic days
I had done my verbal works,
My shoulders were pained.
It was the poor months.

I was on a journey for future
stand.
My talents had gone into dig.
Rain had hidden my cries.

Cyriac Maliakkal
Thursday, May 25, 2023
poem poems future journey
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Poems By Cyriac Maliakkal
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