Father’s Day
Lashing out at invisible enemies
you focus on virtue test –
putting the ethics into incarceration,
when you ask to dip the hand
in boiling oil. Epiphany, a magnus
tells, gives a sensual arousal.
Without you I was fighting
graffiti on no-name lips.
The green eyes were watching. A
terse detergent suicide.O my
architect, what game you are playing
with a child who refuses to become a father.
poem by Satish Verma
Added by Poetry Lover
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