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The Sink
Sometimes it’s silver,
Sometimes it’s gray,
Waiting for someone,
To come its way.
When someone does,
They turn it on,
Then it wakes up,
And makes a big yawn.
The yawn sounds like rain,
Rain pounding on the ground,
I don’t know about you,
But I like that sound.
And when you are finished,
Finished using it,
You turn it of,
And it stops with a split.
When it stops, it goes to sleep.
It waits again,
For someone to come by,
To turn it on, and then…
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