An Exile Poem by Tulsi Shrestha
An Exile
AN EXILE
I am crowded
With alive
Dead
Souls.
I am a stranger
Really inside
My own
House.
As an exile
Really I feel
Pains and
Griefs.
All my relatives
Are beyond
My own
Reach.
I sold them
My freedom
Without any
Cost.
Now I migrated
From fresh river
To deep
Well
Friday, March 11, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: exile
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8/2/2025 10:34:05 PM # 1.0.0
Migration! ! ! Moving on. Thanks for sharing this poem with us.