Iron Lungs Poem by Satish Verma

Iron Lungs



This road hurts now.
Going to the god of your temple.
You will not repeat the prayer.

Puppets start appearing.
The player gets ready. Looks straight.
Never bending neck.

A viper a viper twirls
to teach you a lesson, that the
venomwill not forgive.

Thursday, October 1, 2020
Topic(s) of this poem: life
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