A whole library of books
On that corner table shelf of mine
Mocks at me at times
They may bear a lot
In the bosom of old wore pages
To educate the world around
An untrue self esteem
May be for a vibrant book lover
Not my cup of tea
Buried within the 23rd page
Of a thin copy of ‘Arms and the man'
Is a withered bundle of petals
A red rose from him
My ‘CHOCOLATE MAN' of the dream
Rest all be a fantasy
Someone has robbed the smell
The freshness is gone with time
But the RED stays back
The petals are now papery
Hope there written my secret love story
Just missed to be chanted
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem