Wider spreading like sprinkling of grass
I wet pet fed on disappointment. My thoughts feel sorry
For who it resides with. I finger away
In chasing it faraway. For calamity it is,
When such nature being.
Indeed! Human is illiterate of his words, until
An unoccured occurs him. Until unexpectedness Open its mouth.
I know myself and I know to who myself really belong to.
I know who really I need to name.
And I write when I really need to write for lame.
I cry on disappointment for it crowns its branch on me.
An ink never scissor pen but it has.
For I know a blessing I sighted, is a blessing
In disguise, later it authenticates.
I thank Alloh there are lots of pens.
I did not pick up pen but pen picks
Me up.
With this pen I write lovely sad poem.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem