Song I Poem by Sadiqullah Khan

Wilt not thou write for me
For me to sing
In my little frock
In chorus with my friends
On that stage
With balloons and all the colors
Shining on the wall
Some candles
Wilt not thou write for me
People call you a poet
Are not you tired
Of talking things so irrelevant
I want to sing your song
On that piano too
Wilt not thou write for me
A song so sweet
Like the sweet song of the lark
Where will you find
The angel faces you dream of
I know you love my innocence
Wilt not thou write for me
You poet with no purpose
Be a part of my life
I have life so beautiful for you
I will make your home gushing with life
Leave your world of misery and solitude
Come hither
And see me dance for you
And see me sing for you