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Author Name: Freesatishverma 0 Comments
Date Added: March 08, 2011 22:03:27 Average Score: (Needs 2)
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Type: Unspecified
Category: Inspirational Add To Favorites | Text Only
my poems make me sad. 

You reflect the times 
my body leaves the wound marks on sand. 

Again I had gone to my tattered home 
to sleep under the moon. 

There was only a small window. 
I would look at the stars whole night  

to conceive and jump into a lake 
of synthetic fathers and hired wombs. 

The grieving faith now holds you responsible. 
O god, in reverse order, become a man.

Satish Verma
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'HOSTAGE' Copyright © Satish Verma
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