I Found My Head
I Found My Head
In a Thrift Store, I found my passion,
A life-size carving of a wooden head;
I thought it would be a piece of conversation,
Unfinished though it was, I want it, I said.
The head is under a schefflera and speaks
It says "finish me please so I can know who I am,
Funny, though, guests give him a wide berth,
"I'm a great deal for $10.00 as a doorstop jam."
I wouldn't sell or give my head away,
For some aspiring artist with a chisel played,
And would be so pleased that the old thing sold,
It's my head to keep and have and hold.
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.
