No Room
Trapped necklace:
after a kiss of bee
to find the hive.
Honey spills from the
urns. I wet my moons in night.
Wind snatches a sun.
Let’s go back to bricks
for the moral blindness of
king without crown.
Satish Verma
Copyright © Satish Verma | Year Posted 2013
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment