Your lips were me.
I wanted a kiss
which never came.
Insertion of a word, was committed
my wings took a flight
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.
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Comments about this poem (DOWNPOUR by Satish Verma )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
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Edgar Allan Poe
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William Ernest Henley
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- The Tool That Carries, Barbara Fleury
- No one may, hasmukh amathalal
- Not material gain, hasmukh amathalal
- In A Misty Autumn Night., Amitava Sur
- Life is to be, hasmukh amathalal