Invisible Stings

With dolls on your side
of a troubled life; you
go on rocks to receive
an unspoken answer.

The sounds, the echo.
Your father walks in -
and lays down the brick
on your papers.

Were you prepared to save
yourself from the onslaughts
of ladders. The snakes were
ready to bring you down.

Let the cityscape rise on-
the tall spires and snow
fall on the bones of birds
for a salutation.

poem by Satish Verma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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