I have seen plenty of things never been experienced by an alive eye socket.
I have been through the struggle of filling my empty pockets.
Call me a sprocket.
But I have valid questions.
Like, when will our country restore its status as food basket?
When will I have fresh water in the bucket?
When will I have my next brisket?
With the above granted I will very jubilated like a player who has found a wicket.
How I wish I played cricket.
I guess
a poem
that leads to
Paradise,
a poem
way to
other plans...
I desire to create
happiness
in the poem that
definitively
lead us pleasure...
I wish one
train poem,
that transport us
to memories
of wonderful past,
a ship poem to
carry us
for a future
that we imagined...
I wish this poem be
what one day i conceive
I will be jubilated to write...!
To get it, the hot-blooded campus youth
booed and cheered, screamed and shrieked,
fought and cheated.
It fanned the hysteria of intramural sports
where the losers wailed, the vicotrs
jubilated.
Now rusty, it leans on a heap of rubbish,
the Overall Champion Trophy
once golden,
lost in the rubble of the demolished gym,
a relic of youthful seasons
now forgotten!
for it, the hot-blooded campus youth
booed and cheered, fought and cheated;
adrift in the hysteria of intramural sports,
the losers wailed, the victors jubilated;
now dusty, it leans on a heap of rubbish,
the Overall Champion trophy once golden,
lost in the rubbles of the demolished gym,
a relic of a youthful season long forgotten!