Talk of politics,
and the auction begins.
Every rock has a price.
The marble will fetch more flesh.
The granite breaks below
your eyes. I limit the tears.
No time left for complaints.
I am ready for the good –bye.
Will you meet me beyond
the space, faraway in void?
No words will follow me
I am going unwritten.
No profile, no editing.
A bloom will pop up, from
below the fallen tree.
-
Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: August 5th, 2018 17:27
- Category: Nature
- Views: 32
- Users favorite of this poem: Laura🌻, Poetic Dan
Offline)
Comments1
Excellent point of view!
Snobbery eliminated!
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.