Thursday, September 17, 2015

His Doll House



he tried pulling out the drawers
but there were no damn keys
he ran towards the larder
where food was rotting for free

and there he hid
like a long lost kid
in streams of red
his heart would skip
as voices came closer
yet farther, still
he was scared of their laughter
breaking all his will

'cause he was a teen
who dressed like queen
and played with dolls
and danced in balls
trapped in dreams
and dust, and whim
the house that stood
on his table's rim
where he would sleep
once lights were dim
with a hope, and wish
his doll house, his bliss

he tried pulling out the drawers
but there were no damn keys
he ran towards the larder
where food was rotting for free


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23 comments:

  1. Nostalgic touching words.Brilliant thoughts.

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  2. This has both a magical and uneasy feel like when reality and dreams are mixed up and we are searching for what we need - and the right key...beautifully done

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  3. Its a whole new world of self identity questions...

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  4. He is confused to confront his sexual identity. A man trapped in a lady's body. Poor fellow.

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  5. You have written about such a sensitive issue in the most beautiful and powerful way possible. I really like this :)

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  6. Words full of emotion coming so naturally. Very nice.

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  7. Oh wow! Such a turmoil you brought out so beautifully!

    Seriously man, how do you do this?

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  8. awesome composition, Amrit. loved it. and the picture brings me happy memories. :)

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  9. Brilliantly written as always. :)

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