Downpour Poem by Satish Verma
Downpour
Your lips were me.
I wanted a kiss
which never came.
Insertion of a word, was committed
my wings took a flight
for anonymity.
To keep suffering alive
truth was accepting the hurts.
I was not speaking for myself.
Who was me to want a praise
for the custodian of morality?
Something for my name?
I must salute the fallen fingers,
who did not write death –
for my hugging blankness.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/23/2024 4:08:29 PM # 1.0.0.1119
