From The Doing Good Poem by Satish Verma
From The Doing Good
Rating: ★5.0
Come to me, without
going to touch a goal.
Whom I will like now?
Where do I go on
golden night to heal the wounds
of unopened shocks. Lift berets.
Go to school of pain
for an autopsy without dying. My
blood will always boil in snow.
Sunday, February 11, 2024
Topic(s) of this poem: school,snow,wounds
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8/28/2026 12:57:27 PM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
I feel the pain of the poet, nicely written,5****