Lost poem

I lost
my poem
Down the drain
It lathered
And slipped
Through my
Bare red knuckles
I tried to save it
But It had other more
Important jobs
I dried my hands.
My tears
Formed the
Words at midnight
Dried up
Dreams
On my hot icy cheeks

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

and the plumber won't come out to find the poem....he isn't working now because of the "stay at home" rule.
but at least the poets palms and knuckles are sanitized, as is her pen.
j.

[Julie McCarthy (juliespenhere)]

Thanks for your review yes I find my poems just lack the old lustre sparkle these days