Stomach curls
Earn my feed
Not through any words
But by
A simple silence, which
Devours my appetite
A blank look
Says
What not to say
And
All riches
Recedes the more
Farther away
Always
In night
The Sun rises
From the bed
That the bread
Will do justice
In first wake
But, alas!
Only empty plate
And bead of tears
Was garlanding
The presence
Whose richness
Was more yogic
Than what
Any humans
Can transcend
justice of bread! the poet has honestly crafted which can not be denied.
So much thanks to thee Ramesh Rai Ji! _()_
The impassioned voice of a committed Poet !
Thy passionate comments teem me with thy soul Sir Louis Kasatkin! So much thanks!