A Sketch.
My boss and colleagues speak
They are offered
Gift, Money, and many more
Then,
My Inner man smiles
with cry,
No sound!
completely full of tears.
I stand
Dressed as a boss-
In front of our bathroom mirror,
The man in the mirror
A pencil sketch
Drawn with a dry tear,
Looks like a beggar.
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This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem