A Plaything To The Gods Poem by Eila Mahima Jaipaul

expecting nothing
I got less
it appears my Gods
have abandoned their plaything.
Ever steady Apollo gives his thanks
for the momentary distraction.
Dionysus empties his glass hurriedly
and takes his leave...
he knows fun when he sees it,
but more to the point
he knows when the party is over.
Aphrodite, you ask...?
well, she was never here.
For a moment, I thought I saw her
I was mistaken.
I will sulk like an
impetuous child,
crying.
But like the toys
of children
it matters not what they do,
they are still discarded,
newness gone,
in a disheveled used heap
on the floor.
How foolish of me to think
I could ever have been worthy.