Astigmatism

Decoding the self-portrait
in false exposure from me
to light. The wounds hide
the smell of alienation.

The infinite was never
created, as biological father.
Crestfallen wallflowers went to protest.

If you could find a god on the road.
you must ask for the reason of
astigmatic vision.

There was an uncanny feeling;
somebody was watching you. Afraid
not to see; time was making room for you.

Answer becomes a question mark.
Don't shut the door.
Death will walk with you.

poem by Satish Verma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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