Thursday, May 1, 2008

A Fog Is Now My Motherland Comments

Rating: 5.0

A fog is now my motherland
grasping furiously, her beauty evades the touch of my fingers.
Fruits of her labor is a history so bold; her story forever retold
This people so much as the dust, beat by the sun
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COMMENTS
Latasha Dixon 13 May 2008

I feel as though fear is only fear until you decide to face it

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rohit sapra 01 May 2008

I liked this poem as it reflects concern, fear and also the fact that you like the place you belong to. The way you have described things in your poem is as right as it is just the exact expression.

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