The Grave Of Me Poem by Amoghavarsha Visan
The Grave Of Me
Dig a circle
A perfect one
and let me lie down there
in peace.
I hate squares,
rectangles and triangles,
For they all have edges
sharp, piercing.
Circles are neat.
A circle grows
with the same epicenter
expanding, encompassing.
A circle's easy
unlike hexagons and many more.
A circle is always complete.
And I will lie there
contemplating
the fullness and perfection,
I intend my death to be
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Delivering Poems Around The World
Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...
4/27/2024 9:42:54 AM # 1.0.0.1119
