These daily rituals,
a silent snap,
you’re drowning in the slosh, slosh, slosh
of the washing machine.
There was a time you wanted to think
Beyond 2+2=4.
Craft a well-written story, creating a
Piece of art that stands the test of time.
Dreams lost, a dirge’s cake, eaten slowly
swallowing the pain one bite at a time.
Too late it keens, to push beyond this
Mediocrity.
3 comments:
Ahhh, no, not too late, anyone who can write a poem at the kitchen sink to the murmur of the washing's music, is well beyond mediocrity!:) White Rose, there is a secret holiday island hideaway somewhere, where my muse has joined everyone else's muse for a summer break. Hold tight..:) they are coming back soon.
I really get this. You're writing is so connected to real feeling.
this is visionary.. the line a dirges cake, eaten slowly is perfection.....
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