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The Catch

Rating: 5.0
I stood at the doorway,
Amidst the assembled devotees
Crowding the temple,
Their constant murmur filled the air;
Each had a chosen desire
Safe in their heart,
And a prayer on their lips
They had immense faith in their belief.
But,
There was no prayer on my lips,
Only a small desire scraping my heart;
I stood there
And quietly watched the light play,
Gently upon the deity's serene face,
That very face I wanted to be mine.
Such is the strange thoughts,
That bothers me.
Sunday, March 7, 2021
Topic(s) of this poem: thoughts
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COMMENTS
Samantha Immanuel 08 March 2021
Nice poetry, but why is it named catch?
0 0 Reply

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