Fear Poem by Uktamoy Khaldorova

Fear




I resemble to a fruitless tree
On the edge of the road, you see
Those who pass me by
Are the passers-by,
Whether they are good or bad
Throw at me the stones hard
Being aware of me or not,
I'm a giant patient tree, am I not?
The stonehearted people
Keep telling us though
Hiding in their sleeves
Carrying in their hands
Leading life with difficulty.
But I'm very-very much afraid,
Of the stones thrown at me,

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