Taking pains - try very hard
Sore Ankle impatiently edging past my husband the lid - lifts off - from the pot microwave still ajar He Cares not in mood to hear capitulation at my ankle’s screaming pittance I harden, he softens Introspect his kindness and care remove my black ring my mood slowly turning blue not unlike my ankle Prologue microwave does not throw out dirty looks nor does it knock out the light that fills room with gladness
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.