Hidden smoke is a friend indeed

'If they pick I have some words for a country sad song.
Yes, If they sing I hear quietly.'
A rising smoke from a cottage chimney whispers to the barren sky.
'They burn the happiness and it turns into smoke.
Where do I go nobody knows?
But don't be frightened
I never pollute the sky and I promise you to bring rain for your crops to smile
And feed you in a severe drought.'

poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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