Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jan 2015
Whenever I enter any Indian Wedding,
The clarinet would be lamenting in rejoice,
Playing it would be very frequently happy tunes,
The irony became so profound when I'd move further,
Clarinet already lamented that the groom would lose himself.
My HP Poem #752
©Atul Kaushal
Äŧül
Written by
Äŧül  29/M/Kärnāl - Häryāņā - Bhāräŧ
(29/M/Kärnāl - Häryāņā - Bhāräŧ)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems