A Crouching Stance

It was an outrage.
The weaver on the 
loom was brutalized.

A design was raped.
The color screams,
I want to live.

Septicaemia spreads.
Time to be ashamed, 
when your gut was removed.

The salt hurts on 
the bitten lips. A 
genome falters.

Let me try to define- 
who we are; and 
where we are going.


Satish Verma
Copyright © | Year Posted 2015

Poem

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