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Poems by ratnaprabha raykar : 11 / 27
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Me, an old house
demolitioners descend upon me with chisel and crowbarsstrike me where i am vulnerable mostthey look at me with gleedeciding which part of me is juicestout come my doors and windowswhich lineup with SALE labelled on themdevoid of walls i still live onhoping my walls will rise againbut hey what do i seewalls rise to reach the skyshaping cubicles large and smalleach vying with the othertrying to glean shoppers from each otherMy spirit is tattered between themAm I living or dead or multiplied
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This peom is about a woman in my life, who is suppose to be there for me but is not.
Dreams, desires, id and ego.
This poem is about our failure to feel fulfilled by our constant consumption of life.
Read it and find out.