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Apr 2018
It was an explicit "I"―
deeply flawed.
You had started hitting
your peers, asking them
to hate you.

Psychopath?
Mea culpa, who would not say?
Kindles a tender feel―
when you love a pink rose,
not uttering a word.

Scared, my tremors
start like a leaf. Cannot hold
the pen. Very quietly
I print my tears.

Thirst, mouthless―
I drink from eyes.
Earth beware― the crop has failed.
Rancher was going―
to commit suicide.
Written by
Satsih Verma
125
 
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