Journalist Poem by Sajal Ahmed

Journalist



I confess to God before my death "In the post-birth, he should send me as a journalist. '
God is silent
God is worried
Hands on his head
God was worried about something quietly.....
I redeem the Intellectual God's silence,
I re-petition to him.
When God asks the reason why
I replied - ''My mother's dream was that, I would brighten the face of the world as a journalist, whereas I was a gangster.
I heard that, the prayer of the mother was accepted
I have not found any truth in this proverb!
I have never seen any mother's prayers to be accepted.
O God, all the mothers of the earth are not my mother;
Therefore I want to accept the prayer of my mother at least. ''
God is silent
God is worried
Hands on his head
What did God think was silent.
Imagine immediately after, the God ordered me to take away my life
My generation started processing...
Step one -
I woke up four legs
The beard is spit upon
I Called like a goat!
God is worried the and he still thinking....
Step two-
God is thinking about my diet cycle....
The crisp grass in front of me was fragrant flesh and Pulaos.
I do not eat perfume flesh and pulaos
I raised my face in the crisp grass.
Step Three-
Worried God's
Smile on his face
and he shouted with joy
'Yes Perfect! Your mother's prayer has been accepted! '

Journalist
Tuesday, December 18, 2018
Topic(s) of this poem: poems
POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
Journalist is not your god
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
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