i
Poetry has been sufficient
To console all my senses
At the scenes of desolation of my life
Tragedies of intimacies rigged
The enormous continent of poverty
ii
That I have witnessed, perhaps
Words gave me a signifying shelter
That I live with like a beautiful skin
I can’t control my appetite for language
It courses through me like a drug
iii
Poetry has been sufficient
To give me strength in months of famine
When I have starved myself of
Social contact, I have been fed
By wrapped innocence of idealism
iV
Coined in passages of stanzas
The fragrance joy of high wonders
Cast in the shadows of ominous alphabets
Poetry has been sufficient
Like two human figures recklessly
V
Exposed, the vitamins of creation
Poetry has been my escape into hunger
A kind of permanent hunger for
A better world, expressed in dream-lyrics
A loving sanctuary of the canvas of gold
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