I Was Not Sure When I Knocked At The Door Poem by Pritom Barman

I was not sure when I knocked at the door,
Then I saw your face without thinking any more.
To me you were so much angry,
But there I just wane say you sorry.
Now I just called you,
But I knew you didn't wane see me a few.
Then I called your name,
But a reply from your mother came.
That she is not here,
And I thought how could you do it to me oh my dear.
And at that time my heart broke,
And I wane kill my self with a fork.
Now only sadness is with me remaining,
By giving me savior paining.