Geometry
You catch what was convenient
for age of denial. The exit.
Not being for nothing,
a better half of a belief.
Dependence was increasing
on wounds inflicted on others.
I stop at the mid of road
to turn or not to turn.
For the lost parapharases of existence.
The myth of amorality
was getting a new title. I close
a chapter of non-committance,
walk along a wheel chair.
I am not limbs, not topless.
The toes are prodding on a green vein !
SATISH VERMA
Copyright © Satish Verma | Year Posted 2009
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