Anger Within
A gem cutter
takes a pause
and finds the hate of a locked house.
The words scream
and hurl a propensity for violence
becoming an aphorism.
A pithy precipitation
was delayed. The seeds in desert
will not be able to catch the light.
I am still lonely
making peace with rain of arrows
coming from nowhere.
poem by Satish Verma
Added by Poetry Lover
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