Nepotism Poem by Satish Verma
Nepotism
Like illegitimate sons
becoming nephews.
Stay with me I have lost
my ink.
An underground knife
cuts you to wrist,
you bleed on paper.
It was a tip of trust failure
after a wake up call by a loner;
the molten lava will find another
sexual pursuit.
There was nothing left to be
concealed, after the bonfires of veils.
The celibate tears come unbidden
I am going to encounter the pool.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/19/2024 8:59:12 PM # 1.0.0.1119
