A POEM
###Accountant
- Rudra Muhammad Shahidullah
The hand is filled with lump of money
But my fields of grain are filled.
Rudyar never found the day,
Basundhara of the night floating in the float
If you have taped finger sweat,
The master of the brain then lost
Sailors have their own nickname in the Bhola
Blossom flower blossom in the eyes
Call out if the memories are faded,
Humming Locked Room
The birds will come back to know the way home
I will not be alone knowing the path
If you tap, old dust will drop out
The water is stored in the corner of the eye.
Cotton bursts in the air
There will be not only dedicated boots
The moon does not wake up in the forest of the forest
Shed Fender in the body of sand
Do not read the missing trap
There is absolutely no sound in the form of sleeping
Filled with love, it is filled with love
But my extensive bihirabhumi
I want to run away
Cover the eyes with your fingertips.
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