Oh! This was tough! My first sestina. Algorithmic Rhyming sequence but thank you Jack Huber I am really learning to respect the craft in poetry...thank you.
The Peddler
I am but a peddler of broken dreams
I preach not from the pulpits but the streets
I sell hearts ware that your attics won't store
I am the teacher of treacherous thoughts
Your heart is my abattoir my dear
And my word is good, for lies I refund
Blaming me will not get you any refunds
Understand that and blame your brokeback dreams
I 'll lay my hand upon your head my dear
I shall absolve your pain it's two way street
You shall sink below my slimy thoughts
My glib words remaining your precious store
Hoarded like gold your cheesy store
In the market has no currency for refunds
When hearts are broken into incoherent thoughts
Night terrors gallop in and destroy dreams
Learn to live like me cheap on easy streets
And this peddling conman shall call you dear
I swear your faith in me could touch me dear
But I too need to lay gold in my store
Long back I learnt life's hard on easy streets
If you waste your gold you get no refunds
I made my career of whispering dreams
Sought your lonely dead and desperate thoughts
So I sold my penny potions of thoughts
And now I laugh to think you bought so dear
I made my killing fields of your dead dreams
And watched you live upon my lying store
This I cashed in to get your fresh refunds
So soon I forced you out to life on streets
It's brilliant tonight on the lamp lit streets
Where you have sunk drunk on my grimy thoughts
My bills you've met in copious refunds
From peddler of dreams have I risen dear
And I have misled you rifled your store
But still you crave your daily dose of dreams
Be smart street smart let go the lies my dear
My worth in your thoughts should not hold much store
Peddlers cannot refund your shattered dreams.
All rights reserved
(c) Amrita Valan 2014
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