Poetry

Satish Verma


older other poems newer

29 october 2019

Holding Back

The credibility
of an apple
becoming an icon.
 
It draws first
blood, when you―
were sleeping.
 
It still matters:
thinking of milt
but sinking your ferry.
 
There was no epilogue.
 
A midsummer night.
I will forget
your name.
 
Standing in a
queue, you should not
punish yourself
 
becoming unmatched.






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