Many Die Starved Of Love Poem by Aniruddha Pathak

Many Die Starved Of Love



The unkindest of human dread
That can oft hit a man of earth
Scarce of flesh be, nor is blood red,
Which, he’s learnt not to live in dearth.
Faults of flesh can well be treated,
If not cured, alleviated;
But none has a hospital made
To cure the pain of loneliness,
None has medicines invented
For despair, as for hopelessness;
Many a man may die for bread—
A mere morsel, a roof above—
More die of hearts not beating red,
And die starv’d of a little love!
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This sonnet takes a slightly unusual design.
It has tetra-chords of eight/nine syllables
instead of the usual penta-meter. The lines
are iambic.
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- Sonnets | 08.12.08 |

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Edward Kofi Louis 24 August 2019

Chain of life! To cure the pain of loneliness. Thanks for sharing this poem with us.

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Aniruddha Pathak 24 August 2019

This poem too remained starved of love for long ever since 2008. Thank you dear EKL showering some love to it.

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Aniruddha Pathak

Aniruddha Pathak

Godhra - Gujarat
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