Past the graveyard down the road,
Lives or dies a man out cold
Every minute is a burning desire
For him to feel there's nothing higher.
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Excellent imagery evoking the feelings of what can only be a desperate person seeking any help he can get even if that were to be a graveyard. 'Will any hand rise from the many dead' is powerful.
the vagrants try to sleep on the concrete slab of the cemeteries, as those places are more convenient for them to have proper rest and it is the common sight in our part of the world! the idea you had conceived to write this poem is nice...but Yet every minute is a burning desire For him to feel there's nothing higher! as long as the livings have the stomachs, the fire in it will make them to wake up! the stomachs are higher than any else in the world! Congratulations! Ajay! I like your poems!
you wrote this at the age of 27. i wonder what will you write when you are 37. will you leave anything for any one else to write about. Fantastic Ajay, brilliant poem.
Smartly well described and well scripted, fully thoughtful and engrossing, I like it.
Yet every minute is a burning desire For him to feel there's nothing higher! ~ Great bereavement yet so touchy moving diction …finality has been finalized … congrats for sharing Sir Ms. Nivedita UK 10/10
An inspired poem. Descriptive, well penned! ; D
An Excellent write Ajay. I particularly like the title. A great Poem of the day. Congrats.