Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
May 2017
What could you do
when the donor fatigue
is on display? And stops the succor?
You are no more hungry.

A Buddha sleeps nonchalantly.

Small, blue grapes leave
their mark on the plate.
It will take decades to unknow
the ****** orientation.

Breathing in the incense,
the cannabis rules.
You were inhaling the history.

A unisex quality
in the seedless pomes.
Written by
Satsih Verma
251
   Lot
Please log in to view and add comments on poems