Pain And Writing Comments

In one of my poem I was a beggar and was begging alms From door to door for being a child of street god Or a female fetus with folded hands appealed to be pardoned Form the sins I have never done I also applied on me the feeling when I was a goat Tied tight to a strong pole with a rope to be sacrificed In the name of fake ceremonies and false gods

Pain and relief from self-analysis, Abdul