I'll put a
red red sign
after my marriage
on my fore-head.
I'll cook for you!
You will say,
the words of love
without any pretension.
And there will be no
falsehood or lies
on the way of our life.
My friend told these
words to her lover.
Her lover said- - - -
Dear, I'll rather
have my meal
from any restaurant.
Please, don't try
to love me,
or cook for me,
because, I'll hate
to be in
Neela Nath's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Love's Prison by Neela Nath )
Did you read them?
- Moonly Pride, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- Civil Disobedience, Angela K Brown
- Brown Skin, Angela K Brown
- In Spirit With The King, Tone Lyriker
- Knaha tu knha mey! !, Amitava Sur
- Lagacy of a Wave, Bill Cantrell
- To overcome perversion, Rm.Shanmugam Chettiar.
- Life and body separable, Rm.Shanmugam Chettiar.
- Twinkle twinkle little star - 10, ramesh rai
- Beyond my Soul, John Siregar
Poem of the Day
- 04 Tongues Made Of Glass, Shaun Shane
- Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
- The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
- If, Rudyard Kipling
- I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings, Maya Angelou
- Phenomenal Woman, Maya Angelou
- Nothing Gold Can Stay, Robert Frost
- Morning, Paul Laurence Dunbar
- Dreams, Langston Hughes
- Fire and Ice, Robert Frost
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
- Heather Burns