Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Oct 2020
I saw you dying for
basics. Your legs were heavy
and then you start walking.

There was no Plato.
Hemlock begins to climb. You
smile and get ready for Odyssey.

Who will decide the fate
of earth. Aristotle becomes sick,
looking at the new tapestry.
Written by
Satsih Verma
26
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems