veeraiyah subbulakshmi


My play pen...


My play pen is stuffed with toys,
And I can’t move anymore for joy,
Up in the upstairs, the lonely moon shy,
After playing with clouds and the sky,
The night is passed with rocking and gasping,
Now the moon still wears the striking blue gown,
To show her pretty face to the western town,
As the sun head master carries the rays to spank,
Rights of celestial objects not upheld,
As they are happy with the reprimand,
My play pen is full of hearts and their expectation,
Everyone here wants me to smile in perfect posture,
Though they are harsh and angry thinking of dusters,
My play pen is full of mites, dispersed by the hands,
Mouths and atrocious and affectionate acts.

Submitted: Monday, January 20, 2014

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