The bird

The bird
I do not know
its name come
the world is his
it proclaim.

A dead lion
broke the convention
and roared
in nobodys jungle.

The bird whisper
come to me with honour.
I offer a cup of tea
and it flyaway.

I forget what
exchange of thought
was there their
with the bird
on the way.

poem by Gajanan Mishra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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