Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Aug 2017
The limitless times I try
The countless moments you die
A million instants I cry
I never wondered to ask why
No matter how many number of times I plant a rose on your grave, it keeps whithering implying that the good old times will never be back.
Vachaspathi
Written by
Vachaspathi  India
(India)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems