Poetry

Satish Verma


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24 february 2020

Contemplating

It was just my time.
 
To become responsible for
me and I had become recluse,
to lose my memory,
to pay back my debt.
 
I am returning
the gifts,
of night, birth and
sacrifices.
 
The wheels―
had pulled me to slavery.
I am now floating,
wingless,
weightless,
for I cannot see―
 
the parental fall.






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