He is like a Statue
no expressions in his face
whether the five senses are working is my doubt
he does'nt mingle in the community
he does'nt like people
he does'nt go with the mainstream
smiling is the new experience for him
those who smiles are like strange animals for him
his face is like swollen pumpkin
his eyes are like soda bottles
I feel he might have jumped from the planet of devils
he does'nt like to live
and let live others happily
breathing air is also difficult exercise for him
he walks on the thorns
he is pessimistic
he is introvert
he likes to search for human skulls
he is totally a different psycho
when ten people loughs, he cries
when ten people cries, he loughs
when ten people play
he throws dynamites on them
he digs graves in the living homes
he does'nt enjoy seeing the nature
he is busy counting the skeletons in his cup- board
he likes only one music
that is the music of destruction
he likes only one dance
that is the dance of corpses
he takes bath on no moon's day
he cries loudly on full moon's day
The GOD has given him a heart like all His children
but his heart is full of criminal attittudes
he writes only one poetry
that is
the poetry of terrorism
this is the transalation of my poetry wrote in 2000 in indian language not yet published any where
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Reviews of "He"
Reviewed by Prasanthi(Author)
Reviewed on July 11, 2002
Good poem. Well expressed.
Every sentence is very true.
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What Jeannie and Kevin McDonough saw was a wanted, multi-state serial killer about to take his next victim - their own daughter. W
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Every sentence is very true.