This was a body blow
when you said, I had a right to go
insane. The gold-diggers were coming.
Life has become a torn,
dirty one rupee bank note.Useless.
You cannot buy water. Memory slips.
Small things were heavy.
You are half-buried in the wall. The
religion breaks. The dead moon looks black.
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Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: May 7th, 2021 20:49
- Category: Nature
- Views: 27
- Users favorite of this poem: jarcher54
Offline)
Comments1
I'm intrigued by your bold, simple juxtaposed images of despair. The right to go insane will stick with me... very intense expression. Small things heavy, you cannot buy water. The literal "story" of the poem is beautifully elusive, but there is no mistaking what it says! Thanks for this little gem.
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