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Nov 2016
The founder will not find
the copper to cast the history.

It has not begun to hear
the farewell to summer.

Arms were coming out
to end the war, to seal the fractures.

Not my pen, not my tongue
will know the secret deals.

Frontiers are being redrawn,
between the guns and the books.
Written by
Satsih Verma
140
 
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