[03] Unkind April

You left me and I had nothing to hold
I have only vomited pain to bathroom

I am here and you are there at home
I had nothing to do or say to anything
You may need but still I demand you
Kindly pour me baby as an ice-cream

I have lost my brain and soul in April
I can not sleep sound during nights

Just a finger which I could not drink
I have kept that desire into chest-drawer
With my Elizabeth Arden after flatten

But in this non-aromatic crack of dawn
A sharp kitchen knife became equipped
On my breakfast table to sliver musing

‘No' have sprouted from zero to bloom
Infeasibility— April is unkind like you

poem by Ashraful Musaddeq
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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