Rags and Riches
Deep blue, almost black,
sadness.
Being,
my ache of existence.
Eyes, no body in focus.
A grey cloud
rowing the moon
amidst red stars.
Bronzed tongue
digs the spirit
out of flesh
behind the shadows.
Alone me
in unlived house of rags,
looking beyond the walls
other side of tomorrow.
SATISH VERMA
Copyright © Satish Verma | Year Posted 2009
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