Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sep 2020
I will not talk, keep
your right hand in my left.
Something comes through your eyes.

Love is made of fabric.
You can wash it daily with tears after
****** dialogues. Ants come later.

You don't belong to
renegade. I stand my ground
to carry on the mission to swipe suffering.
Written by
Satsih Verma
24
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems