Instinctive Distinction
This is the right time for poetry
This is a young man with a pen
This is the outskirt of fellony
It is a world of trend
This isn't what you earned
This isn't what you pend
This isn't what you learned
it is a blend
More like the raining days
Under the pillars
More like the spectacles
In the cinemas
When the winds blow North
And the South steared
When the the East pretend
Can the wise tell?
If you missed my birthday
You can guess my age
But if you missed my poetry
You are not my friend
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