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 May 2014 Mahima Gupta
Morgan
She was a heap
of tangled wires
on the floor of my bedroom;
I stayed up until four
in the morning
desperately trying
to pull her apart

She was a pile of sheets
all folded over herself
at the foot of my bed;
I stayed home all day
desperately trying
to unravel her

She was her sweatshirt
dripping crimson from
the sleeves,
She was the note she left
on my dresser,
She was the pills her doctor
prescribed her,
She was drawn curtains,
She was locked doors,
She was gone before I found her,
She was her diagnosis all along,
*She was never mine
Oh, the somber wind blows
the ice and the snow.
It’s a different kind of cold
that chills to the bones.
Bringing self doubt to what we think we know,
when all we want to do is just go home.
But when the world says no
you’re left with nowhere to go.
Lost and alone,
the somber wind blows.
I just wanted to try to write something with the same rhyme all the way through and this is what I came up with. I'm not terribly pleased with it but I thought I'd share anyway.
what a joy it is
to have a new broom
for it sweeps clean
all of my rooms

the old one had gone
well past its used by date
as the straw in it
did quickly dissipate

working with my new broom
is a breeze
brushing away the dirt
is done with ease

and there is an added bonus
with the broom
I can set it on
low power or on high zoom

I have had many brooms
throughout the years
but none of them
have filled me with many cheers

the present one
is truly a delight to employ
and it sweeps better
than Mrs Troys
somethings really
gripe customers to excess
and in the griping
they seek redress
a box with five tablets of soap
isn't as it used to be
the size of the tablets
have been reduced
quite considerably
in years gone by
a bar of soap
had a fuller dimension
but nowadays
there is only smallness
in a tablet's dimensions
the customers are paying
a mint
for an undersized lathering bar
manufacturers of soap
must bring back
the larger bars
as customers
are voicing their valid
nah
nah
nah
nahs
 May 2014 Mahima Gupta
r
I awoke this morning before the dawn.
You were gone.
You forgot to turn the coffee-maker on.
Ai.

r ~ 4/30/14
\•/\
  |       No disrespect to my favorite muse intended.
/ \
I took a shower with Heaven
once under
a brilliant
sky of splashed milk.

She exploded,
   then giggled
at our *******-sounds,
the beautiful noises
we made in earnestness
up against the slippery wall.
eloquently spoken
were those most silent of words
their message well heard
Mr Abbott is backsliding
on his election promise
he told the electorate there
would be no new taxes
how gullible us voters were
to listen to his rhetoric
the right honorable treasurer
is going to slap
a nice little revenue raiser
on the taxpayers
the government
wants to bring
the books back
into the black
there's a shortfall
in the budget's bottom line
this is playing vigorously
on Mr Abbott's and Mr Hockey's minds
the numbers
for the budget
are all in
and the government
is out to top up
the treasury's
income tin
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