Many ShadesA Poem by Satish VermaThe brown rice were not yet ready.
The brown rice were
not yet ready. An old man turns in grave. * The thingness was shapeless in dark Like a sleeping Buddha. * Once I told a lie. The snow started melting releasing methane. © 2018 Satish Verma |
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Added on January 5, 2018 Last Updated on January 5, 2018 |

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