Evening

How is my sweet evening!
Hair is playing with breeze, wicked breeze.

Oh! Young lady
Awaiting for a devotee with a beaten rose
Hero of your dream
As converses with reticence of sky.

Oh! Young man
Forgotten pretty human
Reality of moving earth.

Intend to invite a boy
Green mouth with a Red hand.

by Abul Khaer Ruhul Amin

Other poems of RUHUL AMIN (10)

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