Society
Poem of the week: “Let go my hands” by Kshitiz Pokhrel
Often targeted by the tyrannous monsters I feel as I’m the surveillance of the seducers Making my prestige resemble like the period cramps Worst of which I feel as I’m loosing my psychic strands Bleeding, crying and utmost getting unnotified Contrary to which rapers edging up with apprise of futile I’m thinking of committing
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