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May 2019
The snakeskin smiles.
Shoes hurt, when
somebody gives away mercy.

Fidelity has come
for sale. You want to listen
Beethoven only.

The questions were mine. You
had no answers.

I never want to talk
about truth, as if everyone knows
it. I write poetry.

Did you jump into a
dry pool to know
the depth of sky.

Do you think
that was a right thing
to become a saint.
Written by
Satsih Verma
60
 
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