Categories
Poetry

My lost birds

Why don’t I see them?
They flutter with their no wings
They ooze the blood of pain
They just go without any trace
They make me feel their loneliness
But. Why don’t I see them?
They crack the codes of silence
Make the brothels holy
But I don’t see them
Have you seen them?
Can you?
Maybe, but don’t peek
They are easily frightened
They are glittering precarious beings
Yes my dear, they are souls
Souls of pious dead birds
Who still want to fill the air with chirps
Chirps of being live and unholy
If you meet them
Let them know, I am here
Waiting
Waiting
And waiting for longing to end

By aamerbasher

Aamir Bashir is a Romance fiction writer. He has been writing for a while. Her Choice to Love is his first book.

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