One Black SummerA Poem by Satish VermaI break myself today, angry with me,
I break myself
today, angry with me, for small things. Not able to finish the track, I will sell now― my dreams. How do I turnaround, to seek my aching legs, for the fear of climb? The call of the peaks, in deep ocean, for an asylum? Why did it happen to unhappen, when you were fighting like a lynx with fate? © 2019 Satish Verma |
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