From a West Delhi roof, the moon is high and bright, the heat will be here soon, but the wind is cool tonight. Last night I dreamed of my father, and how my mother said, he cried when he lost…
Comments closedPoems about the dark times.
From a West Delhi roof, the moon is high and bright, the heat will be here soon, but the wind is cool tonight. Last night I dreamed of my father, and how my mother said, he cried when he lost…
Comments closed