Wishes
I am not superstitious,
But I still have my wishes.
One is that someone,
Would do my dishes.
But this is not happening,
And there are not that many.
Maybe I’ll just toss them,
Then there wont be any.
But this is not practical,
To think this way,
Maybe I’ll just hide them,
In a bale of hay.
Another wish,
One of many,
Is for your sweet kiss,
I never got any.
You know how I feel,
You know I want you,
You know I can’t go on,
This poem is through.
Copyright © Kenneth Fordham | Year Posted 2008
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