Steal my words


Steal my words

they loiter, flowering

all over the garden

toys in a happy playroom

Go ahead, hide them

with your stash of stolen goods

They may not fit into your flinty box

Púcas they are

controlled by my vagrant dreams


Think of them as tiny puppies

yanked off from a mother’s teats

If you get patted for owning them

do wag your brassy tail.

What have you to lose indeed

when there is nothing to call your own?


Steal my words

The residue left on glass blades

after the raging storm has gone

Steal them by all means

a tree can always flower some more

yet those flowers will silently wither

once plucked from the bush in bloom


Oh, poor you

waiting in vain

for the bitter fruits to come

when in reality

you have just given birth

to your nemesis

and won a pyrrhic victory.
©Reena Prasad
11th August 2012



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