Drop your haves and
have-nots. When you lose things
you are at peace.
From time immemorial.
I was hunting the moon
and you slept.
You never woke, my
god limbless you didn't
move, when earth was dying.
-
Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: October 10th, 2024 19:06
- Category: Nature
- Views: 4
Offline)
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.