We need some more details to complete your registration

Sign in with one easy click


Every morning at the break of day I die
And after a few hours of forgetfulness I wake up
I have seen my breathing spirit as nothing but smoke
So my essence is smoke inside and outside too it's smoke.
Some of my friends eat like gluttons and drink too
Saying the day we live in is the day that is really ours
But I do not eat much nor do I drown myself in drinks
Yet I always wake up for a new day as night sinks.
God is not to be searched for in the skies
Nor in hermit caves or jungles and ruins
He is the spirit in me and is with me till the time
When the power to inhale and exhale will be stopped
And all that will be left of me will be my dusty decline.
So dear wise and far-sighted friends of mine
Inhale deep the spirit of God for as long as you can
Perhaps it may dissolve itself inside you make you fine.
Or with the dreg of the liquor your Saqi offers you
Borrow a puff of smoke from the friend that is thine
Let us see what happens when the drink lights the spirit
Whether we start coughing badly or become it with it.
My grief-laden heart is not a diagnosable "dis-ease"
Nor is my sad face the expression of an actor
How can I ever explain my misery to those who can't see
The drops of aching wounds known only to a lover.
Report Abuse

  • About my poem
  • Review this poem
Poetry.com 4.3 out of 5 based on 0 ratings. 7 reviews.
Stacy Reescano More than 1 year ago
i have them pretty often...since i waz 8
Muhammad Naveed Ahmed More than 1 year ago
Thanks for the stars Stacy.
Susanna Correya More than 1 year ago
Your words really command a reader's attention. The thought and the wordings are very appropriate.
ARUN MAZUMDER More than 1 year ago
well done
Tammi Vandyke More than 1 year ago
good job
Derrick Puente More than 1 year ago
Coy Day 4 months ago
David Berrisford 6 months ago
No reviews whilst I'm blacklisted
Recent Activities
Most Active Members This Week
Poetry Pin Winners - 25,000 Points
Poetry Pin Winners - 100,000 Points