A.M. Blues Minus One
A neighbor is running the vacuum.
Whether or not she is cleaning--
Well, that's another thing.
It's 7:00 a.m.
And the dirt won't wait.
By 8:00 a.m.
It'll be too late.
I grab my pen
And my white-noise machine;
For these are my sanity
While the inmates run free.
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
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
