London Bridge Is Falling Down Poem by PRIYANKA BHANDARKAR

London Bridge Is Falling Down

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Vegetables that mean nothing to her, a child to be
a problem of choice, the time which gives opportunities
transformation of beauty, a conceit of age
the journey that she lived, a little flute bearing a horn
to complete perfection, as god believed the ten commandments of love
she would wrap around like a living cabbage, to the roots of deconstruction
a child which waits with patience, tears of blessings
the moron who would considers himself, a disgrace he is a moron
creating the intricate lines of leaves, a job commitment
the splotches of god's grandeur which comes alive
never were our desires, never was there a lamp of love

for time man did not create but follows.

the inches missed a bullet
the creature that has fallen
a greater teacher one of possibilities
an image, the lamp at the round table
the knights and squires who bare the truth

the world eats on a plate or with hands
the world tastes the food all love
the smudge on the bridge
to the lonely window naked
a consideration of a child, the contendness of god


the wonderful rays of the sun, awake, arise
a host of daffodils flying in victory to another day
they even now grow between the weeds, the virtues
fruits that had been eaten, good god


I called it luck, that of which gives a bow
my fair lady, my fair lady
the atmosphere created, untitled, unknown

But time man did not create but follows

We all fall down.

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