A gift box,
Shining and glowing,
Rimmed with colored dust,
Made with finesse,
Is sitting on the table,
Projecting its surreal beauty,
The variegated stripes on its cover,
tried to add value,
To the gift sitting inside the box,
The magnificent box increased the curiosity,
What might be inside?
With fervor, it was opened,
And there were a few rotten apples,
Degrading the inside of the box,
Reducing the entire value,
To zero…
Pradita Kapahi says:
What an anticlimax!
shreyans says:
Yes..people generally spend their time decorating their outer self that the inner self gets degraded and rotten..
Pradita Kapahi says:
That is true… And your poem reflects that emptiness in our plastic world pretty well.
shreyans says:
Thank you pradita for reading and comprehending..i am glad..
Pradita Kapahi says:
You’re most welcome 😊
Shweta Suresh says:
Brilliantly written. Appearances can be deceiving and what truly matters is what’s inside. Great job!
shreyans says:
Thank you for reading shweta..
Shweta Suresh says:
It was my pleasure!
Nishita13 says:
Ooh! You know this reminded me of all those pretty people- hollow from inside. Eeeeeh. God, that’s amazing 🙂
shreyans says:
you got the point….that is brilliant
Nishita13 says:
Yes! 🙂 🙂