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Satsih Verma
Poems
Aug 2021
The Stones Are Coming
A ***** drags you
to smell the identity of Neanderthal.
How will you define the small human?
Now as I am hurt
I collect my poems from nostalgia.
The olive has the magic. This is not true.
I have to win at any
cost. Will you die for a lie? There
was no afterword after the ****.
#life
Written by
Satsih Verma
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neth jones
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