Biography Poem by Satish Verma
Biography
A name without
a face. I am an ancestor
unknown.
A shortened height,
difficult to exult
in honors bestowed.
The light hurts, in
earthen cave. You write
on wall of conscience.
The mud clings.
Stink covers you, like
serpentine arm.
The arbor has many
colors. I will choose
none in dark.
Tuesday, March 17, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: poem
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4/24/2024 5:22:57 PM # 1.0.0.1119
