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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=514652" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Fever Rising</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=514652" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">What is the thing of poverty, <br>of frozen pain, <br>fury under the snow, <br>between fire and rain? </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=514652" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">You come on the surface<br>to breathe, douse with petrol<br>and show off a flame. A slum of emotions<br>burns with rage.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=514652" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">The masses in the garden<br>play with a fountain. The screams<br>bloom into a scam. A dead blue peace, <br>except the tears obscene.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=514652" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">I am in fear. The pillow was used<br>to choke the enemy.The ripples were<br>spreading. Wheels were broken. A child<br>in a womb cries.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Satish+Verma">Satish Verma</a></strong></div>

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