Poetry

Hopium


Hopium, your smouldering leaves
keep me swaying
from glasses half full, and otherwise
your swirling, spiralling fumes
keep entrancing
revealing a world I know to be but lies
What power, what nepenthe
is yours, Hopium, my friend
that even when I know you’ve only misled
I still follow you…blindfolding my weary eyes?

© Isha Garg

Instagram @author_isha_g

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6 thoughts on “Hopium”

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