Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Feb 2018
Your face swims like
a myth.

Night spreads the veil
of a cloud on the
white breast of moon.

No family. Words
move in different tacks.

Water heals, when
your feet were sore.

Soya beans. You have roasted
them alive in jumpsuits.
The faith becomes a devil.

The black eye
waits for the rain to
wash the racial smudge.
Written by
Satsih Verma
64
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems