YOUR SPACE
Poetry
What Do You Mean?
When you prick, I
write a poem. I talk to you
even in your absentia.
When I held your hand,
you were not there and you went
on talking about your love for me.
Life has many faces.
Dashes and dots. You run after the moon
and light the candles in line.
When you prick, I
write a poem. I talk to you
even in your absentia.
When I held your hand,
you were not there and you went
on talking about your love for me.
Life has many faces.
Dashes and dots. You run after the moon
and light the candles in line.
A poet responds to stimulus. People appear to love and believe but it is as useless as lighting candles in moonlight.
Rajendra Singh Baisthakur
, Nellore, AP, 524003
Author
Satish Verma
kantasatish@gmail.com, Ajmer
Mar 03, 2024