Not NegotiatingA Poem by Satish VermaNot Negotiating
The lost child of
pulsing star was hiding in your eyes. A feud will decide the fate of broken wings. There was no classical guilt to wipe out the gossip of coined vocabulary. Tears will spoil the milk of hungry mouth. Two halves won't move. I dream carrying the stains on my sleeves. A thick silence descends. No mistakes. I plan to kill my steps. The doorbell rings. Time to say goodbye. I open the door. Stranger picks up the briefcase. © 2022 Satish Verma |
StatsAuthor
|