No More, No Less
Noway, I will ask
the poem, to become stressed out,
like the street,
beaten and used again
and again.
Where do you want to go
for a rendezvous with?
unknown, in dark,
groping for the unsung,
unseen meaning ?
Time is worn out. You live
on the fringes, unselling
your ancient home, submerged,
after the earthquake,
triggered by ghosts of comments.
Satish Verma
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