A Zit
Before the mirror his presence beamed.
In shock and horror, the mirror screamed
at his heartbeat
apart from me,
throbbing, ready to pop,
even talking, nonstop.
"Quiet, you fool," I whispered harshly,
yet the more he pestered me.
He spoke for me when we went out,
got all the attention with each shout.
A blush surrounded what I could not tame.
He held a bold stance, like a target for aim.
If only I could hide my face,
or take a wand and make an erase.
Even so, he'll go when he's ready,
and I'll have problems less petty.
Copyright © Juliet Ligon | Year Posted 2013
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment