Poetry

Naeem


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5 march 2013

Hunger

To endless I stare
absolute obscure I see;
-behind becomes grayer
as you step upon me.



I cannot endure you
to touch the sky overhead;
-entirety is absent not few;
-the space is much to be fed.



Your finger pointed up there
and my eyes on earth now;
-those smell of dusts here
made me pondered somehow;



-of what I have made within
a hunger and terror of loss
beneath lays everything                     
and yet the coins I toss.


-Nr.






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