Toothpick by toothpick,
Picked and Picked.
Cuspate from this end to that.
Like my body was a sponge.
Absorbing every tear like gelatin syrup.
Lachrymose into pale colour.
Pleasing the child of tantrum.
The Christmas decorator in tinsel time.
A bag of punching temper.
So the heat melts me into,
Gooey liquid like crow shit.
Then baked with flattery,
Inflating my ego.
Again they feed on me.
With intricate care I was made?
Or just for the clown show.
Bones and hide,
And a pinch of fear put into preparation.
Served on a plate to hungry dears.
Golden goblets with maudlin poured.
Pitcher filled with dreams of mothers.
Spongy Side.
Edge soft.
Stretchy stand.
Elastic cast.
Fortunate cake, whose toppings last.
Pretty, pretty.
Born from the swampy dumps.
Marshmallow.
Occasional.
Festive.
Twisted.
Strained.
Pained.
Colour of your mood.
There is nothing new,
Nothing 'own'...
In the marshmallow.
Decked up marshmallow.
nice one
ReplyDeletecheck out my blog also
http://iamhereonlyforu.blogspot.com/
@ Chirag
ReplyDeleteThanks!
hey linhy thhanks for liking my blog. Will surely drop by. Take care
ReplyDeletea marshmallow so soft...so luscious...so enjoyable...a metaphor for a life so joyful, it derives happiness from absorbing pain and suffering from other....and yet there is a threshold...a demarcation beyond which a dam breaks and one just cannot take any more...
ReplyDeletenicely done...can just say I can guess how it feels....though would never say i understand! :)
@maverick
ReplyDeleteThat was an absolutely lovely perception! Thanks, all that matters most is true love and being there... that feeds a marshmallow with the sweet syrup of hope and contentment :)
Thanks, tc :)