On a wrinkled piece of paper,
I lay in extreme centre.
I am depressed and wounded,
Yet nobody is astounded.
I lay there like a lifeless soul,
With no one to give me hope.
I have never been given a hug.
Always been treated like a slug.
On a wrinkled piece of paper,
I lay in extreme centre.
I have always gotten rude gestures,
From children, family, friends and teenagers.
Everyone greets me with a Bye-Bye,
And then tears prick my eyes.
I have always remained shackled,
My life, my death, my grave,
My soul, my body bound in reins.
On a wrinkled piece of paper,
I lay in extreme centre.
Shamin Bashir Shah
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-saddest-poem-ever/
