- Leena Koirala
- May 16, 2020
Her | Poem by Leena Koirala
Down the river, there’s a forlorn girl Her hair’s a mess, her clothes are wrenched She stares at her own
I’ve been staring wall for months now but I don’t see any eyes The things that I don’t even care
Is it pain? Is it pain? Or am I paying my cost? Am I scattered into chaos? Or my pieces