Crafting Poetry

Friday, 15 June 2018

Stranger


People ask me
How is it that I live in a stranger city
That I visit far away strange places
Laugh with strange people
I tell them
I have been raised by strangers
Known- unknown were but a divide of time
That I have been passed from strange hands to stranger
That every one in my life have shown
how the best of them could be
Stranger.

at June 15, 2018 No comments:
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  • Aanchal
  • Abhishek Basak
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  • Villanelle Poem. D Adaphro

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