Showing 2 Result(s)

Two poems by Meera

Meera This freedom is not ours   In a tank in Mahad, Long back, he fought- Not for the stale water, But for us, to be seen- As humans. The tank is still there, Stale and filled with moss, Like your eyes- jaundiced, With the moss of manusmriti!   Another boy was killed- For the …