Stillborn
As I closed my door and lay down to sleep,
A poem came and violently knocked at my door.
Being quite late, I put a rein on my desire to admit it in
Even in my sleep I could hear the faint sound of a knock.
In the wee hours of the morn, as I sat up to house it,
Only scattered phrases and broken lines floated around.
A crazy excitement made me trap them in ink.
But nothing worthwhile showed up on the writing pad.
I found I had only violated the virginity of the paper.
After hours of spasmodic labor pain
What came out was a stillborn with no heart beats.
It lay limp before me and all excitement died down
It's still body, I found had closely resembled me.
Something of me was there stamped on it.
How could I who had parented it,
Callously discard it in a dustbin?
So, I carefully stashed it away in a secret place.
Where no one’s prying eyes would ever fall over it!
April. 6. 2023
~ Placed Third~
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Copyright © Valsa George | Year Posted 2023
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