The Clan

by Satish Verma   Sep 3, 2018


As I come, for molarity
without molars.
No grinding was left
in the millstones.

The family
accumulates. My distorted shape
will not accept
the broken ankle.

Paraplegic, you run
faster than meteriorite.
The boom was heard
beyond cacophony.

It had come from
the blue. The burning anchor
of desire, without
the damp eyes.

2


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Latest Comments

  • 5 years ago

    by CJ Maleney

    I really can't find the words to adequately describe this poem.

    It's like acceptance of self, defence and sorrow all bundled up together.

    Regardless. It was fantastic to read.

    Craig