When it is dark
I walk, like there is
No floor.
My toes
Feeling just ahead,
For what lies there.
Vacuum cord,
Cat dish,
Mail that I know
All too well
I don’t
Want to open.
We all seem to be
Pensively waiting.....
Like Terry says,
For the ATM
To make
The money noise.
A contest entry
- Your Thoughts On Money by Cerulean Sunrise.
450 points, ended October 16, 2007, 11 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What did you think
Comments
-
I love that ending. ha ha
Thanks!

