Dec 11, 20241 min read

Crumpled Page

By Harsh Patil

Quill dried up,

Lost for words,

Stripped of suffrage,

I have no say.

The paper now flouts

All bouts of my escape

First left the ink,

Then went colour,

Now with cadence gone,

Even the verse is free.

Venting the rage,

I crumple the page,

Still have a page's just a namesake.

By Harsh Patil

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