My sorrows aren’t scared: A sad poem by Somoy Shafi
My sorrows aren’t scared
The universe never listens to me
But the agony does
Who shall I call my best friend?
I can easily walk on fire
But only struggle in the crowded jungles
This marshland somehow isn’t my ball
Every time I become humble,
I’m reduced to rubbles
For River Clubs and all social junctions-
My spirit somehow loses its traction
In the field of connection and friendship,
I don’t have any street
At the faculty of loneliness, I am always skilled
Who shall I call my best friend?
In the countryside, the moon is my bride
Only in the city, it seems my soul is in trouble
My heart is scared
Only my sorrows aren’t frightened
Who shall I call my best friend?
-Somoy Shafi
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