Author Sayeed Abubakar When a song-bird gets tired of singing love-songs, then the bird does not remain a song-bird more. Therefore twenty four hours I sing, I am singing, I will sing for you, o my rose. This way my life will go and goes. Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments