Methinks
My eyes were sitting on a stone
Dangling feet from their own limbs
Gazing through the hearts of men
Like rust of clouds in the setting eve.
No men's heart have met a joy
No men's heart a bliss;
Jealous eyes were fed with greed
And fame a peak of pride.
Copyright © Choning Dorji | Year Posted 2015
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