As a prisoner of routine life,
I sit in the verandah with a vacant look
At the gloomy sky
That bursts into downpours off and on.
As I look at the rain soaked trees,
The drenched birds on the wet boughs,
Their languid look and calmly composure
I can compare with mine.
My thoughts keep floating like the clouds
And reach the empty horizon of nothingness.
For nought I settle my pensive prayers
And come back to my retiring bed.
As I close my tired eyes,
I can see the droplets of rain
Hanging from the railings of the verandah
Much like the tears I saw in your eyes.
Dhaka
20 August 2016
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