In My Painting

satishverma

You pry out my eyes,
when I look at your hands,
which were rough and cracked.

Were you digging
your future? Pomegranates
always left red scars.

Don't ask the god
who was helpless, sitting
on sun to cool you.

  • Author: satishverma (Offline Offline)
  • Published: November 9th, 2024 21:05
  • Category: Nature
  • Views: 13
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