Like A Mockingbird Poem by Satish Verma
Like A Mockingbird
You cannot get
everything, even if your lover is
made of paper. My buried pain persists.
What would you do
if you knew you would die? Only a few hours.
Who was in love? I want to embrace it.
My aloneness will
respond to praying in dark, Why
the candles burn themselves to give light?
Saturday, September 7, 2024
Topic(s) of this poem: life
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8/28/2026 5:33:56 AM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
