Leaving a trail for
the game of kill in watery eyes
for sane surrender.
*
That was a fake turn,
when you slipped from the edge
of enduring pain.
*
Like first raindrops,
I was going to wet your brows
to write my hurt poem.
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                        Author:    
     
	satishverma (
 Offline) - Published: August 21st, 2022 19:27
 - Category: Nature
 - Views: 15
 

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