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5 Comments

  1. 1. awesome poem
    i loved it!!!!!!! -Avani
    2. Avani, my daughter, age 14, read it while I was reading your post in my reader – I also agree with her – beautiful imagery! -Arati

  2. The voices, the sounds,
    And the coins that jingle.
    Mix and mingle
    Like there were no bounds.

    One fine day, the sounds became noises
    Muting the flies and even the bee
    That’s when they said- It’s time to flee
    And that was the last of the Market Day.

    He then dove into another hell
    Wishing for the noise to end
    And now he sits flicking a coin
    Calling it his very own private well.

    True, the world out there
    Walks on and on
    In their private hells of well
    It’s an unseen Market Day.

    Step out the well now or
    Flick me in to another hell.
    I am the coin that used to be
    But now, just a piece of metal to thee.