Impatient, was green
snake in grass, I watch the sun
ready to give a chance.
In dark winter I
will dig out the sad poem from
your burning eyes.
Not soliciting
from any god I will build
my own sky, my script.
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Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: March 25th, 2022 19:51
- Category: Nature
- Views: 4
- Users favorite of this poem: James Michael
Offline)
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