Poems are not just
A string of words
Arranged randomly just to
Please the eyes
Or to create a music to the ears
Or to paint the white paper
With the black alphabets
It is different altogether
Sometimes a herculean task
To pick the much sought after word
At the right time
To fit into the collage
Days and months sometimes fall short
To chase and reach the most wanted words
Some of the poems of the world
Are till date incomplete...
May be a stumbling amateur like me
Is destined to be away from the beloved words! ! ! ! !
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This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem