My Ears Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

My Ears



My ears

My ears, these spies
do their work and have fun
they hear passing air
and pluck what they want.

Is it theirs, or is not?
They get it regardless.

Sunday, January 3, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: feelings
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Lily Yang 03 January 2016

share 'they hear passing air and pluck what they want

1 0 Reply
Nassy Fesharaki 05 January 2016

Sure...thank you

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