Do Not Tell Me What To Do
Tiptoe gingerly she said.
I know, I yelled, irritated. Don’t tell me what to do!
These black holes don’t play! She warned me.
I just want to have a tiny peek inside, I retorted.
The last time I was heard or seen.
Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2021
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment