Author Information
Poem
Folder:
Satish Verma Not knowing―
was a bliss, writing
a poem.
Words fall―
Like small birds,
flying.
I pick up
the sorrow, of the
blue sky
inaudible.
Not knowing―
was a bliss, writing
a poem.
Words fall―
Like small birds,
flying.
I pick up
the sorrow, of the
blue sky
inaudible.
