No Hurts
This was an embryonic stimulus
for a sprint.
Knowledge itself has no legs.
Can you run faster than thoughts?
The sniper will take you in the open field.
I had hoped to die in your arms.
The podium was too high for a small man
who wanted to heal the masses.
Drowning in your own thoughts was the best kill.
The bones were always dumb.
poem by Satish Verma
Added by Poetry Lover
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