No Malaise Poem by Satish Verma
No Malaise
Rating: ★5.0
I trace the path of murder, reclaiming
the blood stains
on grass. Becoming a stranger
in my own land.
Stranger? Yes.
Lead name missing.
Always wanted
less than enough.
I bare my chest
scrawling a blue butterfly trying to
unwrap the colour.
Wednesday, January 23, 2013
Topic(s) of this poem: butterfly,colour,murder
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8/29/2026 2:38:08 PM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
Wanted..The real democracy.! the ancient civilization is not yet matured enough to have the blue butterfly! Nice poem!