Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Dec 2020
Hope is drying up
Like a Well dries after the monsoon,
Sitting in this room, alone and aloof,
I have counted the stains on the wall,
None of it is more prominent than the
One I have with me, I'm a social pariah,
like an untouchable, polluted with death;
Run, Run away from me,
I hold death in my lungs.
Deep
Written by
Deep  25/Delhi
(25/Delhi)   
161
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems