Obtuse Poem by Neethi (10 Aug 1990)
Obtuse
The quill occupies
a quivering hand,
animates my thoughts.
Justice not done.
A distended heart cries,
to you it sounds
like another sound, .
The melancholy, unheard.
Each time you slip,
off your contour,
I blush.
A weakness disclosed.
Memories, soured
by stipulations,
you struggle to forget,
Wounds re-exposed.
For the unattainable,
I try,
And never tire,
Perseverance assessed.
My pain, never shared,
scrutinized by
your reproachful eyes,
Condolence missed!
Day by day,
I age.
The dead parts wither.
I wait.
Wait for the tears to taste sweet.
Memories, soured by stipulations, you struggle to forget, Wounds re-exposed.................... What else does it require to convey your own inner self in such a appropriate way. Well done. God bless you
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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3/13/2026 7:13:13 PM # 1.0.0
It is very difficult to understand things, to be remembered or to be forgotten. Obtuseness is very painful too. The poem deserves 10/10. Best Wishes Naseer