When the lamp spoke: A sentient objects poem

It’s the middle of a stormy night

I have been buried in excel sheets since 9

AM. Suddenly I hear a deep voice.

“Is this what you want out of your life?

Corporate slavery?”

/

Startled out of my wits 

I drop my pen & look around

When the voice adds,

“It’s me. Your lamp.

Unlike you I want to enjoy the dark and stormy night

And would rather put light

On the pages of that latest Megan Miranda

Than boring numbers on spreadsheets.”

-Armaan

Photo by Romina Mosquera on Unsplash

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