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My poems are conversational by is almost like talking to a dear friend under the soft lights of an obscure pub,,,,,, with a glass of wine in your hand or beer as per your taste in alcoholic beverage.

In Spite Of

32665d36b79bfe2303f11e0a0df7a307by Anthony Mondal07 Jul 2014

Though no one takes notice
No one is aware
Yet spring still comes, with her leafy green robe.

The rivers, with wanton carelessness we pollute
But still they run to greet the sea.

The forest trees, ruthlessly are they brought down
Yet they shower us with fruits, and birds to sing

And the blue sky, not spared from man’s progressive hands
Where toxic fumes are profusely dumped.
Forgets not to bring rain clouds and crystal clear drops of rain.

Though I throw tantrums, like a spoilt kid
You still kindly to me smile
Like a benevolent father to his child.