Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Nov 2020
The wind goes by, but here I stand,
The birds fly by, but here I am;
Bound by the words of my dictator,
I pray to you, save me, my Creator;
Held by the shackles of poverty,
They say go to work, no need to study;
Each time they speak, it leaves a scar,
I try to escape, but I can't go far;
I look up to see, a sky full of lies,
Every minute, an innocent soul dies;
I cry everyday, an ocean full of tears,
I beg to you my Lord, answer my prayers.
Written by
Sanmi Pawar  16/F/Mumbai, India
(16/F/Mumbai, India)   
233
       Benzene, Weeping willow and Traveler
Please log in to view and add comments on poems