Author Hemant Divate Like cigarette Ash we Get d-e-t-a-c-h-e-d From ourselves Our awareness Suffocates In the ash-tray Now we feel unsure Living e-m-p-t-y Between dream and reality That's why There's a greeting in my mind But I won't Send it to you 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