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Writer's pictureSreemanti Sengupta

Knocking on Purgatory's Door

by Patricia Walsh


A logical heaven, paying the last penny,

Tried through fire, walking in narrow streets,

Maturing from effort, various circles permitting

The concerned transported in comfort zones.


Reading turgid diaries, leaving the home alone

The deed not done, successful to requirements

Passing through taught for a tightened fee

Loving to a fault, afterwards, no conclusion.


Never dreaming of assault, reading into supposition

Paying markets for alcohol passing through

Working the slave markets no challenge

The innocent always suffering as a reward.


Squeaking to fit, in auspices of a phone

Swallowing wild creatures in part, the new normal

The covert slipping away, the luxury barricaded

Computing the minutae to the best of ability.


Sipping on average food, telling everything

Loved within means not an excuse anymore

Forcing the hard on a serial aberration

Dearly beloved, taking climaxes seriously.


Not supported on this device, loyality scarred

Qualified for troubled in the ensuing din

Less trouble than worth, lighting from a fire

Basking lovingly in the responsible lifetime.







Patricia Walsh was born in the parish of Burnfort, Co Cork,and educated at University College Cork, She has published across Ireland the UK and the US. She tweets at @eurynonymous






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