CLOSET OVERFLOWING
There are skeletons in my closet:
Well, we all have some of those.
Everyone has secrets
They’d like to hide I suppose.
Most people’s hidden skeletons
Are minor ones, no doubt.
Just a bit embarrassing
If anyone found out.
Little indiscretions,
Committed long ago.
But things they’d really rather
Their family didn’t know.
But the bones that fill my closet
Are not a metaphor.
I have a pile of real ones
Littering the floor.
For I am Jack the Ripper,
A man of great renown.
Slaying ladies of the night
After dark in London Town.
And, until the police catch up with me,
I intend to keep on going.
Soon I’ll have to move house.
My closet’s overflowing.
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.
