When His Life Belongs To A Mysterious Hand Poem by nimal dunuhinga
When His Life Belongs To A Mysterious Hand
He writes day & night
And erase sometimes.
Then writes again.
He drinks a lot and stops
When there is no funds.
Starts again when his wallet sounds.
He walked thousands of miles
But he feels still at the same place.
One day he spoke to an insect
It struggles to survive in a cobweb.
'Dear! How could I help you
When my life too belongs to a mysterious hand?
Touched by your inner sadness. But your poetic gift must make life worth living. Friends at poemhunter, Sandra
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4/25/2024 11:33:47 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Your use of metaphor is always so unexpected and so compelling too. It seems that autumn sadness is providing the inspiration for your recent poems. So beautiful. So melancholic. My heart aches for you. Love, Allie ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥