Me an old house

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  • Created: March 16, 2015
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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 crowbars

strike me where i am vulnerable most

they look at me with glee

deciding which part of me is juicest

out come my doors and windows

which lineup with SALE labelled on them

devoid of walls i still live on

hoping my walls will rise again

but hey what do i see

walls rise to reach the sky

shaping cubicles large and small

each vying with the other

trying to glean shoppers from each other

My spirit is tattered between them

Am I living or dead or multiplied

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