2nd July, 2015


They want to know if I am a poet

Why there is bullet in my quill

Why my room litter with shredded papers

Why there is quietness in my prayers


They want to know if I am a loser

Why I mourn a mother I never lost

Why I love a father I never met


They want to know

If the worms in my head are fed daily

If the rain in my eyes falls yearly

If the children in my chest are loved dearly

Why my clothes are tattered


They want to know

If my father is God

If I was hatched from an egg

Why there is halo on my head

Why He raised me from the dead

Why there is air in my lungs

Why there is pain my hugs


They want to know

The path that leads to my heart

The past that is covered with earth

Why I choose to be sad

Why I walk around like a sag


They want to know

If my poem has a title

If it was composed with a subtitle

Why I never finished writing

Why am always stalling

  • This a deep poem about self-discovering

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