In a wink, the moon
leaps for a journey to self.
I will severe my thumb.
*
To smear on your bright
forehead. Oh god your crisp
wisdom has failed.
*
The community of words
becomes dirty. The beauty gone lost,
nobody wears a mask.
- Author: satishverma ( Offline)
- Published: August 18th, 2022 19:41
- Category: Nature
- Views: 7
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.