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#Poem Sollivia : Priyal Panchal

February 3, 2016


(For an Italian girl)


He crafted her out of chimney soot

when Santa wouldn’t come

nor would sleep

While thoughts came wandering about

without a knock


unasked for

Forging all futility, a make-belief motive

by the doorstep of damnation held him helpless

Never did he bother to bargain his being,

No, not a bag of significance solicited for his worthless soul

Thoughts were never so dear a dealer,

they wouldn’t grant him prominence,

never cleared that air of unimportance

Thoughts barely bullied him busy

to never wake upon the dawn of wakefulness,

A weariness wore the awareness of the futile inside out,

Never allowing him doubt

What hid behind the door of his existence

And, at such times

He bargained her being,

solicited her from fantasy,

made her his reality

and climbed up the chimney

to swiftly escape the mansion of his macrocosm.

Copyright © 2016 Priyal Panchal

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