My Morn Friends Thrown In Bins Poem by Sylva Portoian

My Morn Friends Thrown In Bins

Rating: 5.0


Writers write and write.
Next, daily papers
Torn, thrown out
Gone grievers’ site!

Countless hours
Thinkers stay sightless
Thinking to write on what?
I wish ideas were flown like kites!

Can we collect? I tried, I failed
Words dearer than cents
My dears can’t ever accept.
To leave friends round, where!

One collects newspapers.
One throws in bin.
We can’t reciprocate
Life explication stays on screen.

I only want to find some time
To read all the thoughtful papers
Otherwise, why minds work intense
If papers are ghastly cleared of seen shades!

I neither threw nor will throw
My lover’s words in dustbin.
Treasures of mind squeezed
Distributed to homes, with news of field.

Do you throw your jewels out?
Throwing can’t answer our dart
Why are we tearing, burning words?
In dirty dustbins piled for carts!

Shedding tears don’t give means
Think to find a way to understand beings!
One throws...one collects
Like bones to feed the trees already died!

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Mohammad Akmal Nazir 22 June 2011

Great poem. Written well with vivid imagery. Nice sentiments. Keep it up. I rated it 10. Thanks for sharing..... Kindly read and rate my poem 'A busy street' on page 1. Akmal

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