Poems by
Priya Mouli

A dilapidated hut being idyllic

a poem by Priya Mouli

A life so profligate,
would indeed be hollow and full of hate
without hotels rated at least a few stars
or a proud possessor of the world’s best cars!
But how long could this satiety,
persist to be a booty?
Without the blissful, protective dome,
of Home, Sweet Home.