Come down gingerly.
The deep snow is melting.
Will wait at pass.
It was a toxic
snub unintentional.
Growing poppies.
The thinker thinks not;
in the poem of terror,
the blood will spill.
- Author: satishverma ( Offline)
- Published: August 11th, 2016 22:30
- Category: Nature
- Views: 8
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