Poetry is like friendly advice
    everyone has something to share,
               but hardly anyone ever listens.

Loneliness is a taste of death
Here I am, dying,
without arms to expire in.
The house is silent, as I drift to sleep,
not eternally,
yet.

/
I was very immature
My Sixth sense until then
Could not understand his words
Listened to all the strange things
How to tune in to that!
It would be a void in my soul
Felt a strong gravity
Ever would leave the door open
Pull away the home would have been without

Consistently in the nature of
Deep darkness,
Off and on beside a Chime river
Ever in the green meadow under a tree
What to get a!

But I remember
The smell of the ancient world,
The taste of the salt water,
Think the creation of
The epoch learned
After Rain very earthy flavor,
I would think would be the essence
Of the air *******

But what a surprise!
How do I know thee fragrance,
Didn't see thee before
Didn't imagine thee face
Only I have to paint
The dark night sky color in,
Sometimes wings to fly
Like a free bird,
Ever saw the weaver birds scatter house,
To be surprised to see the purple color inside
The Black berry

Slowly I grew older then
My Fifth sense,
The more active
My Sixth sense,
Like the branches grew
I saw the the ground to make
I put the plants saw the,
Seen Counterpoint to the creation of,
Seen be created of the soul
You have caused me
When I have seen
I understand that
You do not someone else
Thy existence
Is hidden within me-
/
@Musfiq us shaleheen

But I've been told otherwise!
Past and present, I protest,
And he sneers.
What makes me so,
I query?
And he relents but says instead I'm just

nothing special

And the harsh slap of mediocrity stings
My greatest fear
To be
That nothing person
Face in the crowd person
The deadly sea of in between