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Author Name: Freesatishverma 0 Comments
Date Added: February 15, 2011 22:02:35 Average Score: (Needs 2)
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Type: Unspecified
Category: Inspirational Add To Favorites | Text Only
The native walls 
were hounding me- 

out of game. 
I was playing chess with god. 

Was stoned to death. 
A small boy’s arm 

was crushed. 
He stole a bread. 

What was the truism 
of unheard voices? 

Groping in green darkness 
I was watching 

the lethal plunge of man.

Satish Verma
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'WHISPERING SPARROWS' Copyright © Satish Verma
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