Ne'er asked my hairs to scatter on my back,
When started dancing I was dressed and pack,
But the ecstasy of dance one by one,
Did something that couldn't be undone,
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Not a piece of meat, no, no, never, In the garbage bin are bones, however, Not a date with me, not a chance with me, Ne'er asked my skirt to dance with me! grrrt touched the point sirji......... penned the great feeling of an artist (dancer) which never ever can a common man understands........ Ans that media they just wanna spices for there falsy cook
Media one pillar out of the three pillars of a democratic county sometimes seems to be good to have but sometimes they are the main reason to develop a rift and an environment of devastation....a beautiful poem....liked it....thank you for sharing :)
Ne'er knew my skirt will rise to a height, And my landscapes may become so bright, I greatly admire your ability at finding diversified themes for your poems! Kudos to your fertile imagination! A full 10