Click in the field, then press CTRL+C to copy the HTML code
In A Sombre Mood
Are you sure after the sunset
the hunger will find the mouths
in black alley?
I go to my ailing land.
Stand on a mass grave.
No faces, No names.
Brother, I am not bickering
I am listing on my fingers.
Was it possible that we could
count the virgins in the town?
Mudslinging starts. Who was not
corrupt? The prevailing conjugation.
How you will tell your kid who
was your mother?
I become restless, tossing around.
A single word shimmers like a
blood soaked jewel. I pick it up.
A baby poem is born.
poem
by
Satish Verma
solid border
dashed border
dotted border
double border
groove border
ridge border
inset border
outset border
no border
blue
green
red
purple
cyan
gold
silver
black