16 may 2020
For Others
Salt burnt, you come
under the shade
of milkworts.
Not fated, you still
wanted, unaided departure.
Reading the lifeline in your hand,
why did you opt
to kick the bucket?
You wanted to celebrate the luge with vodka?
How do you get in my shoes?
You become me?
The blue lake of your eyes was frozen
I will walk on ice to reach your home.
24 april 2024
The End StartsSatish Verma
23 april 2024
2304wiesiek
23 april 2024
Three poemsAdam Pietras (Barry Kant)
22 april 2024
2204wiesiek
22 april 2024
Echoes TravelSatish Verma
21 april 2024
od wewnątrzsam53
21 april 2024
2104wiesiek
21 april 2024
Picking RelicsSatish Verma
20 april 2024
To Dying MuseSatish Verma
19 april 2024
The VoyagerSatish Verma