THE POT FOUND EMPTY
_Scene: Kitchen, hunger and blame_
Wood creaked under his weight.
Lid lifted.
Nothing.
Disappointed as if unexpected.
"Your days are numbered," he snarled like a gorilla,
And threw metal to the floor.
The sound ate the small room,
While he had nothing for his own belly.
"Should I inform you when I've eaten?"
"Yes," she said.
He called her lazy.
She called it truth.
Silence settled like sleet.
Two people - one sober, one drunk.
Two people - one pot, zero food.
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.
