Disappearing Act
You are home about one day a week.
Are you avoiding bill collectors?
They call here several times a day.
They ask for you. I say you’re not home.
“All right, we’ll call back” is all they say.
You are down in Atlantic City
spending all your time in casinos.
You only come home when you are broke.
Is your dad’s ring still in the pawn shop?
Woman, will you please clean up your act?
This is certainly no way to live.
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.