Sad Protégé Poem by Satish Verma
Sad Protégé
I don't recognize
you, after giving
a pause to poem.
It was an eerie
accident. I don't own
my body, and you don't
own your tears.
With solemnity, I
place my book, on the road
going nowhere. To be
read by the sun.
You buy the words
I sell the silence.
The hyphens wail.
Cost rises.
Tuesday, July 30, 2019
Topic(s) of this poem: poem
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5/8/2024 8:53:47 PM # 1.0.0.1119
