My best friend comes tomorrow;
happily I dust, sweep, get ready to mop
I just get the bathroom started
The sponge breaks off, I want to drop.
I begin to weep, how is this fair?
How can I get anything done?
For this I start little anymore,
when all breaks as the task is only begun.
My boyfriend gives me potted mini-roses;
To me he's very nice.
I would love to be able to not kill them
I am my mother's daughter, I rolled no other dice.
I want to do many things,
travel and see so much;
how can I earn money to do these things
when I have 'the rusted touch'?
Author notes
Picture: Cutting the Edge. sometimes I have to ask if i am goth, emo, or just plain crazy like a fox... or am i just plain bi-polar?
A contest entry
- Current mood swing: Clutter → Confusion → Chaos by Never Fall in Love.
1000 points, ended August 4, 2008, 12 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
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There are poems that are very short and say very much. Then there are those poems that are long and say very little. I felt that yours was the latter - too much repetition of the same idea.
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