satishverma

IT DOES NOT MATTER

After a face – off 
you toss the coin 
resenting the liquid fame. 

Frame extracts the price 
of picture. 
Compassion for the artist was missing. 

I suffer in mid moon 
between darkness and light 
clarity of rags was improving. 

Homage is now going to hurt 
after the fall of ego, in 
ending of alchemy. 

In spite or sorrow 
a face drills holes 
in my wheels.

Satish Verma