Fronds of Frustration
Hold hands, behold my palms with care,
Fronds of frustration you’ll find there.
My life’s arrow shot loose in air,
Oh points at me alone, nowhere.
Face of my tears can’t be seen bare,
I’ve learnt the hard way masks to wear.
Mixed with the soil’s earthy flavour,
My wounds have learnt fragrance to share.
Of course this world takes goodly care—
A la ice cubes in warm water!
_____________________________________
Ghazal |02.12.2021| despair
Copyright © Aniruddha Pathak | Year Posted 2021
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment