WHERE MY MOM SLEPT

I know nothing,

since when i fell in dilemma,

within that world of violence,

i became nothing among things,

as the sleeping hog!

I'm singled,

living in this shade of sorrows and struggles,

nothing to see than where my mom slept,

and nothing to smell than the jasmine flowers over her grave!

This poem is about: 
Our world
Guide that inspired this poem: 

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