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Kartik Prajapat

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He asks me today why am I not bearing a Headline to my poem? and out of the thousand that strands my mind I pick up the one, reading 'My city is under the siege' and what does that mean? he turns to page 8 and recites about her standing on our step door knocking, as I graze through the bulletin imprinted with destruction and tumult panic set in his voice, he says veiling behind the curtains how he plead about her identity and she chokes up her hands banging our doors "I come a long way, my home in ruins." My father is the newspaper he reads. He asks me today why am I not bearing a Headline to my poem? and out of the thousand that strands my mind I pick up the one, reading

He asks me today why am I not bearing a Headline to my poem? and out of the thousand that strands my mind I pick up the one, reading 'My city is under the siege' and what does that mean? he turns to page 8 and recites about her standing on our step door knocking, as I graze through the bulletin imprinted with destruction and tumult panic set in his voice, he says veiling behind the curtains how he plead about her identity and she chokes up her hands banging our doors "I come a long way, my home in ruins." My father is the newspaper he reads. He asks me today why am I not bearing a Headline to my poem? and out of the thousand that strands my mind I pick up the one, reading