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It was a free fall, 
drowning me on the footpath.
              The yellow glare had 
              scattered me completely.

Left alone to suffer, the 
failure were you. When the 
              brick come, you met yourself
              in the doorway of menacing home.

The hunger pang was 
obsolete. The fish will 
              not swim outside the orbit 
              of a new isle for enigma.

The Turkish stones, blue? 
green eyes, haunt me in 
               sleep. Your life takes an 
               about-face, march outside the promise.

Satish Verma

Copyright © | Year Posted 2016

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