The Toy Store Poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi

The toys can move and be stable,
But always kept wrapped in the shelves,
Walking through the narrow lanes,
Of the toy stores with colorful designs and odor,
I always change into a child to look for the new,
Pink is the chosen medium, which I am overfed,
Envy of bobby’s everlasting curves, breasts,
And the eternal fashion concepts with laced pantyhose,
The toy cars were small when I was young,
Which daddy got for me to play on my mother’s grave,
Now the toy cars are as heavy as the worn out adults,
With electronic chips, noise and polluting plastics,
Rows of soft dolls woven with allergic floss,
The teachers in the manufacturers are parrots,
As they repeat the same alphabets, songs and lessons,
The interacting games are addictive,
And may force the legs to lose the calves,
Stationed the human on the spot,
The green grass yet to grow from their feet,
Wooden toys are there hidden behind the flashy paints,
The huge toy swimming pool, where the pet fish can swim,
The birds, four legged hamsters, dogs and cats,
Those are sold to the kids as the replacement for a parent,
As they have their own playground on the beds,
The debating culture during doing household chores,
The warzone in the living room and the family car,
We are busy with our chosen toys, praise our sixth sense.