Get Your Premium Membership

Superstitions

An empty chair in a 
muffled day, starts
a self-import and
falters on steps.

You need the fear, to
strike back, when the
tracer distribution
returns with a ghost.

The discount will substract 
from the truth. I will
find the zero at the
end of lies.

Will I concede to the
barter ? Let me first taste
the bitterness of victory,
become drunk on your hate.


Satish Verma

Copyright © | Year Posted 2015




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

A comment has not been posted for this poem. Encourage a poet by being the first to comment.


Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry