Salma Laskar Poems

My heart doth whimper,
No lachrymatory to hold the gush of eyes.
So much to say,
Will I be able to hear what 'I' have to say.
...

I treasure my sorrow as I treasure my joy;
As they are exclusively mine.
My sorrow, no match to some one else's;
As it is mine.
...

Once I was caught at that state of being so bizarrerie;
With none to call an ally.
At that state of being melancholy;
Sneered by the mirthful, calling me so silly.
...