Rookie - 72 Points (02-04-1987 / Malda, West Bengal, India)


Everyday I write new lines,
everyday I write few lines of love;
but words still remains too short
to define the this eternal word.
It's not enough to scribe meaning of love.

Every time I select a new sense,
but it turns into another intent.
Yes, so hard to destine the word,
my hand still seeks the true meaning of love;
my dictionary is still a kid to define the word.

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Poem Submitted: Monday, October 14, 2013

Poem Edited: Friday, October 25, 2013

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