Repentance Poem by Sajad Meer

Why they ask me, dear!
Palpitation, did it stop?
And converging to the droppings, tear
Giving precipitation, did it stop?
I cannot forge ‘the old thorn’,
Of the “Wordsworth”, near to crumble
Out from cardiac flesh, old born
Did now it stop, answers fumble!
They keep checking, the happy human
How can it be! losing the pain
Searching mixed aroma, gay man
The absolute point, the wondrous gain
Put now to end, the mutes
The happy human seeking repentance
Doing it again, me ironic repute
Furnish the ultimate sense!