Sweeping Rug of Hope

Playing with parts that loves puppy love

I dusted the sweeping rug,

On a full moon day,

Remnants of puppy love,

Slipped out like a feral stray,

Neglected yet magic borne,

Innocence glimmered

His eyes still shines with hope’s gold,

I kept him there,

So he would forget,

We would loose the scope,

I lost so much but couldn’t give up this fool,

This puppy still wags

Pledges it’s unaltered surrender to human kindreds,

Kind they are, he is so sure in his mind

I, on the other hand is CAUTIOUS in capitals,

Unwashed, unfed and yet unchanged,

How does he dance?

I do want to play with his ball of light,

I kept him under the sweeping rug,

He kept close watch on his light,

As I fiddled with the ball,

He so easily shared with me still,

I found something inside,

The signals I saw in his eyes,

It reminds, not where he is at,


Where he came from,

The sweeping rug swoons,

Its fitted with Hope Fairy’s light,

He is told magical stories underneath…

– Rupika Moitra

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