I walk on cobblestones
bare foot to feel the
hot singed earth.
A silver spoon
disrobes you today. The
mongrel had come to sit
at your doorsteps.
Words bring the genocide.
Leonardo da Vinci
sells priceless. Awakening
comes in tattered clothes.
Who was the sitter
for decapitation? Will
you marry the god
in smog?
Take my hand-love,
I am not a candidate
to become farmers.
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Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: January 22nd, 2022 19:43
- Category: Nature
- Views: 17
- Users favorite of this poem: James Michael
Offline)
Comments1
The puppet and no to answer the questions. The future is unanswerable.
Thanks for making us all think, again.
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