A very old man
Gets up everyday
And pours himself
A bowl
of Cheerios
On his head
Rests his glasses
And God bless his soul
He sees nothing
His wife comes behind
Shaking her head
And mopping up
The spilled milk
His shirt's inside-out
And St. John's Bay
Is proudly displayed
From the tag sticking up in the air
Every morning follows the same
The man and his wife
Have their patterns perfected
And each have a role that they play
6 comments:
LMAO...sounds like me in a few years. Heck it sounds like me know without a wife! What made you think of this?
haha...I wouldn't say you are that far gone. I don't know from whence it came. I just wanted to try a different type of poem from the ones I usually do - more story, less emotional, and it turned into this. At first I was planning to continue working on it and so I put the word progress in the title box, meaning a work in progress. But then I looked at it, and the "title" seemed to finish it for me.
I like this one a lot! It's melancholy in a bit of a playful way.
This says a whole lot in a very short space.
I think I can see myself in this picture in the not too distant future!
Good one
Thank you Duchess. I'm glad you were able to find it.
I found your blogspot through HubPages. I like your work there and wanted to check out your blog to see more.
Keep up the good work.
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