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Feb 2019
The disaster had come
to the fore. In harm's way
stargazing was coming-
to an end.

A monster like a hurricane
starts pounding my
poems. The dry ice will
not quench my thrist.

A mid-gender approach
will not differentiate between
noun and pronoun.

The myth of waiting
and reincarnation had
patisan attitude. I am
tired of the make-up beliefs.

You cannot reverse
the clock. Time moves on,
devastating the palaces.
Only the broken pillars
stand in deserts of life.
Written by
Satsih Verma
58
 
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