Her Bony Countenance - Poem by Sadiqullah Khan
Her bony countenance and his clad face,
Stormed in snow, weathered like hide –
The labored smile, lest it may not be returned,
The grasses smell the earth’s aphro-seeds.
A donkey wishing and potatoes were grown,
They all stood up waiting for some news,
Or a neat expression, for large laughing eyes.
Their happiness is leached by the priest, suppose,
Or a life, tiresome, boring and insipid.
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Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You