menash mohan shrestha
In Bed - Poem by menash mohan shrestha
I can't say anything about tides.
But who says time doesn't wait.
Time does wait.
It's always waiting for life to start.
Yawning & helpless.
Without something inside.
Every hole is hungry.
For some potion to fill it.
Revel in the thunder and music.
Something waits between her legs.
To start a life.
Comments about In Bed by menash mohan shrestha
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
- Still I RiseMaya Angelou
- The Road Not TakenRobert Frost
- If You Forget MePablo Neruda
- DreamsLangston Hughes
- Annabel LeeEdgar Allan Poe
- Stopping By Woods On A Snowy EveningRobert Frost
- IfRudyard Kipling
- Do Not Stand At My Grave And WeepMary Elizabeth Frye
- TelevisionRoald Dahl
- I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love YouPablo Neruda