Grapes In The Brain

Poem By Krunal Pandya

Her skill of potion making was par excellence
Laces of her dress however were quite loose
Cumbersome were her ways of persuasion
And lonesome were the swings of her mood

Dogs envy the craft of her notion less crimes and
Philosophers participate in the debate of her mind
Big Horses are carefully kept, breed before she selects them
With her husky voice mostly mere a noise of its own kind

Joy of kindergarten pick and dropp was
Torture for her strange mind
Her step- dad was a drunkard, notorious,
Loved to break kitchenware of all kind

If brain is her power then why does it not allowing her to sleep?
Does the grapes that she ate as a child went till the brain?
Her knives were all useless and blotted red
Question still remains - where she did she use them?
Better refrain.

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A shying support of lies always lurk somewhere

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I hoped, then hopped; still incorrect,
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