Standing Under The Bo Tree Poem by Satish Verma

Standing Under The Bo Tree



You owe me nothing.
Renegade, my jewels were stolen.
Incredible, the squirrel goes on fast.

Wounded by words, you
were becoming daisy. Magic, magic
to fill in the empty mind.

An unique kiss still haunts.
An anniversary present to stitch the veins.
No blood moved after the accident.

Sunday, January 3, 2021
Topic(s) of this poem: anniversary,magic
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Life
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