The weeping that does not make sound
Surely it is mine.
The scraps of memory that cannot be wiped
Surely it is yours.
The letters that were writt
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shakil, i like the approach of this poem in the opening lines— The weeping that does not make sound Surely it is mine. The scraps of memory that cannot be wiped Surely it is yours. The letters that were written with drops of tears I am the author of these. The dark stains that settle on my heart You are the author of these. The tear that trickles from secluded eyes I am the owner of it. The callous heart that deceives me You are the owner of it. i feel for you that you experienced this. there is intense pain in it. and i wish i could say, my love was pure, about the girls with whom i acted selfishly in my earlier life (see my poem, bridge) . glen
Liked the poem....unrequited love...no favours despite ardent prayers....Thanks.
Beautiful.....I could not get favours despite ardent prayers...Thanks....liked this poem...for if the emphasis on tears have been a little less...
:) loved the first few lines the best, will be reading ur stuff again
I liked the first part of the verse....Over all it's good to go thru.....
Heart touching piece..........Thanks for sharing it...loved it!
You left me a message back in 2015 that my poetry interests you and you asked me to read some of yours. Well here I am : ) So far not disappointed; this is my favorite one so far. The unkind selfish nature of the lovee speaks volumes to me. Truly a good read.