Advertising Poem by Shivangi Chaturvedi
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It is excruciating
Wanting perfection.
What is, is not enough.
It never is.
And when you reach moments of bliss,
You believe it is.
You believe perfection exists.
And then,
Like hail on a mid-summer afternoon,
Perfection melts,
Into a pool of disillusionment.
Reality permeates,
Drenching your skin with its stench.
Saturday, February 11, 2012
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4/25/2024 1:04:00 AM # 1.0.0.1119
