No Cuts Poem by Satish Verma
No Cuts
Why stroking gold
nuggets, I have become poor.Give
me a brief stop to think.
The desire takes a big toll.
I never wished to divert your
attention, to witness an immolation.
The point was heavier
than time. I don't have an explanation.
At the intersect blood rivers meet.
Saturday, October 24, 2020
Topic(s) of this poem: life
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5/6/2024 12:48:33 PM # 1.0.0.1119
