Sound Bites - Poem by Satish Verma
The plaques were being
attached to the wall. You would not be able
to go for refusal. The right to say no
was inherent in yes.
Accepting the exorcism and self―
flagellation, exonerates you from the guilt of
giving away; which was not yours. How
can you claim that you are your own master?
You tie a knot on the thread, hang it
on the weeping tree, throw back your head,
and wipe out all the questions, I wrote
on your forehead.
Peace― it will be mine.
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