Ode to the Ceiling Fan in My Childhood Home | Lutalica

Ode to the Ceiling Fan in My Childhood Home


Ode to the Ceiling Fan in my Childhood Home | Lutalica
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Babies do strange things,
I was once one too,
And I’d spend my days, I’m told,
Apparently talking to you.

I’ll be very honest,
I don’t remember a thing,
I don’t remember what I said,
And I don’t remember you.

Were you brown with gold embellish?
Or a classy, elegant white?
Did you clatter when you moved?
Or spin noiselessly all night?

Did we talk of fun and games?
Did we laugh and joke?
Or were we a relatively serious pair?
Did we often get bored?

I’m told we’d talk animatedly,
And laugh through days and nights,
Now, I’ve got so many ‘friends’,
Sometimes I can’t sleep right.

Now, like many others, I’m out,
To find my ‘true’ friends,
So, on this fifth day of August,
I hope to find you well!


To read more by the poet of Ode to the Ceiling Fan in My Childhood Home. click here

To read more from Privy Poet’ Society, click here.

Ranjini Sircar

Ranjini Sircar – Everything Sharmaji ka beta ever wanted to be. Hopefully, in a few years I’ll be successful enough for people to say ‘She must have slept her way into that position’.

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