Poem Hunter


Its truth at large that most of them
Are formed of routine recurrence
Like sleeping on one side of bed
Like laughing out of ignorance
It cost me time and will of heart
The adjustment did neither good
It started just when we depart
Now gives me cries and pains untold
The day rise as well night comes by
And every bird does come to nest
And clouds do have their rides in sky
I topple in my bed unrest
The habit when is fully ripe
Is very hard to pluck uproot
I give myself console as bribe
That patience has a Heaven’s fruit

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