Wounded Pride by Satish Verma SignUp
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Theme: Life Share This Page
Wounded Pride
by Satish Verma
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  Generation grips, 
I am the street 
in dysphoria. 

You run, shout, the arc 
bleeds, you become your enemy 
that kills the alphabets 

A statue was hung 
upside down 
to eject the violence from plastic lips. 

Blood stained sidewalk 
throws a challenge to send 
the skins of martys. 

The taste of endometrium confronts 
a fortune of calories in pink 
for an unconscious hood. 

And the language of golden teeth 
hides the backdoor flight 
of a fallen god.

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February 01, 2011
More By: Satish Verma
Views: 980      Comments: 0




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