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Her House

I broke all promises
I wanted to see her home
The palace built by her father
A similar house she wanted from me

Reached her home inquiring
It was double story they told
I kept looking and imagining
The big houses in her locality

I measured the length by steps
It was double of mine house
Newly painted in cream color
Mine never painted after she left

On the roof was a spring
She must have swung high
Whenever I said I love you
Sat still fearing our future

The sides were having plants
So, she insisted me to grow some
Eyes searching dahlia she talked
The cactus, flowers she liked

A huge gate shaded by climbers
A board “Sales Tax Commissioner”
Giving a towering figure to her pa
Similar post she wanted me to get

Marbled floor with three cars
Two expensive, one with hooters
One bike, must be her brother’s
No bicycle that I drive even today

Big gallery, big rooms calligraphed
Big windows, attractive curtains
Father on the balcony in well fitted suit
Mother in sleeveless black gown

I guessed the inner decorations
So she wanted me to be a millionaire
I bowed my head in shame
Really she was a princess

She must have cried she got married
Never told she was leaving me
Did she ever desire to invite me?
A poor, coward, three years younger lover.





Author notes

I viseted her house for the first time on 7/5/7. I first encountered her on 7/10/97 broke up on 15/8/5

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Comments


  • My Nemesis
    May 7, 2007

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    Funny how possessions can sometimes scare us - make us think we aren't worthy. Society puts that on us, makes us think what we own is more important than who we are. Your poem captures this very well, the fight between wanting someone because of who they are, but ending up with someone because of what they have.

  • pozo
    May 7, 2007

    Edit | Reply
    Interesting description here. It's sad that because of social class people can't have relationships and that people feel insecure because of differences. This is a sad poem I felt
    Pozo