In Orange Sun Poem by Satish Verma
In Orange Sun
Not enough, your love.
You were the most natural
thing happened to me.
Never aging―your
smile, when you walk in grief.
We turned strangers.
Long back there was a
tiff between the two soldiers.
None wanted a kill.
Wednesday, January 3, 2018
Topic(s) of this poem: poem
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4/26/2024 9:32:14 AM # 1.0.0.1119
