Ruins
I could never ruin anything.
With my writing-
There are loose letters, dangling from the ceiling.
I could never stop writing.
Just like-
That sink can’t stop dripping.
Drip, drop.
No plumber is coming to save the day.
I could never count to 1000.
I could never ice skate perfectly.
I could never figure out why…
There is nothing else in this world.
Except-
Beautiful windchimes, but it’s winter and they were all brought in.
It’s beautiful and weird.
I could never ruin anything.
Then I turned 25.
And my brain said to me,
“Good luck.”
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.
