Strange Politics Poem by Satish Verma
Strange Politics
Rating: ★5.0
A soft, but me,
black moon
coming in bazaar.
Will you sell me the dreams?
Talking to grave silence
before the rains.
I will not plant
marijuana in your eyes.
O, ignorant prince,
my mother had left a legacy.
One should not sleep alone
to become poor.
I expect no applaud,
no cheers. I am a passer-bye
I have not killed
myself.
Thursday, June 9, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: poem
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Poems By Satish Verma
Best Poems
Best Member Poems
Best Classical Poems
New Poems
New Poets
Best Member Poets
Best Classical Poets
Explore Poems
Explore Poets
Poem Of The Day
Love Poems
Baby Poems
Death Poems
Sad Poems
Birthday Poems
Wedding Poems
Nature Poems
Sorry Poems
Hero Poems
Poetry E-Books
Delivering Poems Around The World
Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...
12/16/2025 11:09:14 AM # 1.0.0
Wonderful appeal to a dream merchant. Thanks for sharing.10 points.