i wish to be the trash bag
tossed in shallow
grave,
less than you want to
be tending to it
as thankless
slave,
on wobbly knee, plucking rose
stem from a patch of
poison oak,
raised from death
in tainted bed,
brushing dirt off
weathered
stone
frantic
to redeem
++++
soul from poisons
of the head.
Sickly Soreman
igram: https://www.instagram.com/grumpygorman/?hl=en
…now to wipe my splatter from the bathroom walls and sweep the glass
from our flower bed.
Great post! Poisons of the head indeed… Yours, mine and ours!
Agreed! All the best!