The Inkless Eyes Poem by Aadil Hingorjo
The Inkless Eyes
Noisy streets were full of slogans,
Extents were not identified;
I couldn't join them;
I couldn't.
I am never sorry for it,
For the art was amiss;
just the artifice was out there,
And the eyes there were inkless
I then thought to infer the idea
But, comrade, the idea itself was spotless.
Friday, November 22, 2019
Topic(s) of this poem: art,idea,protest
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7/28/2025 11:50:20 AM # 1.0.0
