Rotten Orange
There’s this
Rotten orange smell
I can’t see the orange, mind you
But it’s somewhere behind
The television screen
I know because
We smell it
We know it is there
Always
I cannot breathe without
Remembering that rotten orange
That hidden somewhere
Moldy fruit
And honestly we were fine before it
We argued over other things and we didn’t
Complain
About fruit
Now I can’t watch tv
Without screwing up my nose
Or gagging at the smell
Without complaint after complaint
Because there’s nothing I can do
And no one knows how he got there
Too far out of reach
And it smells
So
Bad
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.
