I Am Living And Dying Poem by Satish Verma
I Am Living And Dying
In sadness, a cuckoo
sings. Does not want to lay eggs in
others' nest. What is the secret of undying?
In my rival's eyes, my
name was written in blood. Give
something to hurt me. My poetica shines.
I want to feel like
a beautiful cherry weeping tree
with limp branches touching the earth.
Tuesday, December 19, 2023
Topic(s) of this poem: branches
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8/29/2026 7:35:45 PM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
