Mar 10
I don't remember a thing.
It's filth everywhere
and pollution the King.
Wait,
Cuckoos don't forget.
They sing in the joy of Spring!
Attired in their best
bloom amid the doom
the Flames of the Forest!
It's filth everywhere
and pollution the King.
Wait,
Cuckoos don't forget.
They sing in the joy of Spring!
Attired in their best
bloom amid the doom
the Flames of the Forest!
Written by
Pradip Chattopadhyay
Please log in to view and add comments on poems
