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Poems :  That Was
Tags: Life  
 
Turning over your
signature page, holding
your poem in nude.

What else was needed
to commit a sin of god
when you go insane.

The snare was made of
gold, glittering like panther.
You hide under moon!



Satish Verma

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satishverma
Author satishverma
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Date 2019/3/13 1:41:00
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Recents
The Blame Game Begins
Behind The Brick Walls
In Trembling Smile
The Dead Don't Care
That Was
Random
Jungle Jungle
Dirt Roads
Drift Wood
Temple of Hope
A STAR PLUNGES
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