Poem title: FOR I WAS NOT RAISED WITH A SILVER SPOON

I belonged to the family of gloomy moon
For I was not raised with a silver spoon
I hailed from the burrow of bulldogs
But amidst them, I'm a fearless frog.

My real color was unknown to them
They didn't know that I'm a rear gem
And I'm the controller of word storm
That gives poetry a pulchritude form

I am a peacock with glimmering wings
That chirps humorously and also sings
But wore bluish brandy black garment
That served as a symbol of torment.

I became a snail with a shinning shell
For I've passed thru a harrowing hell
I am that beacon that glistens in the sun
I have humorous meanings like a pun.

I love roaming under falling rains
To sniff its coolness with my brain
Still, I am a child with a misty mission
To succeed and achieve my ambition.

Rain.jpg

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