Project Mop
i clean dirt after dirt
from gunshot wounds
which left puddles of blood
where my homeboys
was hurt
come and lerk
to infant rooms
where diapers
were found on
the ground smudge...
i can change your smirk
come with me
to stair ways
where grim don't budge
but i bet for a dime
you can find someone
to call up...
i clean up throw up
after party's that
lasted from night to
morning
bacardi sipping
one had to much
and forgot the target...
project mop ain't to much
of a job that i can't handle....
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.
