Treasure Island

Abdul Wahab


i am Lucky speaking from Bangladesh


I am lucky that I got uncle, Jamir
He pushes me up and I am in the pages
Of first light, I am rising but with out my
knowledge, I become his food, now my
energetic voice is heard but secretly
I am deflowered, I write scripts for the
Tv screen but I find myself in trap
I look lively but internally dying
I shout but my soul is crying
Take my all progress and give back my bag
I do not want to be food for all, any more
Please, let me go back.

Submitted: Monday, April 15, 2013
Edited: Thursday, October 03, 2013

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  • Farah Ilyas (4/17/2013 5:35:00 AM)

    Hey respected poet, when poetry is your power then how can anyone let you back? ? ? ....we are all with you don; t you worry....nice way to raise your voice...thanks to share (Report) Reply

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