Raised in shadows where affection is a ghost,
Made me seek love in every person, no matter the cost.

He whispers sweetly, "I like you. I want to keep you near.”
I always believe they actually care.
 
Give everything; let my love overflow.
Refuse to give less; let my devotion show.

Fill up all their void, every empty space.
Desperate for something I could call "my place."
 
With my lips closed, I'll nod in quiet.
Only open it wide when you want; I’ll be polite.

all alone, I'll wait in your bedroom,
Though tonight I know you won't come home.
 
They break my heart, a same old play,
And they always leave, like hurting me is okay.

But I crawl back; my knees are bruised and sore.
Repeat the cycle until I’m nothing more.
 
I've learned to align my fragmented heart,
Master a couple personas to play my part.

I will wear a mask to your pleasure.
Fool myself; I am someone you treasure.

Laced with ribbons of moonlight
Bangladesh a touched dream at first light.
Land of my father, my mother
sweeter than nectar.
Purer than the driven snow
brighter than raw gold.
Gazing stars’ bumped up bottom
down the untouched moon.

Men and the six seasons
living in one loving fold
our one fertile sweet home!
O Allah rank our martyrs our heroes
up high in paradise in bloom
brought Bangladesh freedom abloom!

Punters cumulus clouds fly
eyes on the sky blue  
on a spur hanging low tune into wild coo.
Picture independent Bangladesh
step in on the morning rug
rolls out outside the sun
walk through, the moon is inside!
Bask in, take your time
when the twilight adds a shadow
the beauty spot on your broad daylight
escape to more serendipitous discovery.
Eye on the stars or tuberoses on the ground
our free land is inspiring, beautiful even in the dark.

Laughs free from a tulip glass  
across the land, air and the water
upon the reed flute stirred river
flowing downstream to the hilt
from a deep-delved foundation out of reach
her raised high flag flies
over the pivotal banyan trees.

Every flap of our ‘the sun in the green’ shaped flag,
the light of heaven on the evergreen earth!
Ah, sways in the chalice of every flower
on the land cheers beyond the warm South
whispers to our hearts and makes us feel proud.

man was the first to preform suicide
natural born martyrs
too sick to bring themselves to eat their own filth
our strongest are easiest to fall
men were not made to survive
but sequential installments are in
follow suite in order to remain on top
in order to fall farther

They had nothing to give
To their motherland
Except their mortal lives
So they gave it cheerfully
Without a second thought
To see her wrinkled smile

If we find something we are willing to die for, we truly live.

*Not a poem, nevertheless the birth of many.

Not all martyrs meet their gods.
Don't be so quick to die.
There is no glory when blood is spilled,
just widows left to cry.